She's No Angel
by StayFreeG3
Summary: It's been five years since the last time they'd crossed paths. A darkness overshadowed Katsuki's life that he would never admit to anyone, and Ochako wasn't the 'angel-face' he remembered from high school either. Yet, somehow, they still managed to understand each other's pain. AU. Kacchako.
1. The Reunion

Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey all! Welcome to my story!

A few things to start off:

 **1) If you came here wanting the spacey, cute, and fun-loving Ochako** you can go ahead and hit the back button on your browser, this is going to be a dark and angst-filled AU fic, focusing on how Uraraka and Bakugou understand/respect one another, and can comfort one another in the unqiue way they need (which will eventually lead to some romance!).

 **2)** Several mature themes will be in this, including: rape, sexual content, obscene language, etc.

 **3)** I'm writing this story set in a time-frame after high school for class 1A, so basically, they've all grown up and matured and whatnot. They be adults and all that jazz.

 **4)** This isn't a quirk filled world of heroes and villains. This story is going to be set in the cold reality of the world we live in.

That all being said I still hope you guys enjoy my weird take on this pair, let me know how I did down below!

* * *

Full Summary: It's been five years since the last time they'd crossed paths. A darkness overshadowed his life that he would never admit, and she wasn't the 'angel-face' he remembered from high school. Yet, somehow, they still managed to understand each other's pain. AU. Kacchako.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Reunion

Five years had passed since the last time Katsuki Bakugou could last remember setting foot on U.A.'s campus grounds, and **a lot** of shit can happen in five years' time.

For starters, he was a firefighter now. He was a really good one, at that.

He'd aced his EMT certifications and graduated at the top of his class in the fire academy.

His life these days seemed to be centered around diving into infernos, and pulling people out; saving victims, and winning against the flames.

He always won...except for once.

Aside from himself, from what he'd heard through Kirishima, all of class 1A was obviously older now and living out relatively normal adult lives.

A ton of his classmates had gotten busy and shacked up with one another. Getting married, and all of that _cliché_ bullcrap.

That shit wasn't him.

 _Fuck_ , he thought.

Deku even had a little brat now, about 6 months old if he recalled correctly. He thought it's name was something like...shit-head..oh wait…no that was just Deku.

He'd never really been one to follow the mainstream flow of life in any case so, he didn't really see what the big deal was with all of this 'new phase' ideology that his classmates, the ones he had bothered to keep contact with, kept yammering on about.

Katsuki let out an exasperated sigh, crumbling up the invitation he'd received that morning for a five year high school reunion party.

He resumed resting, shaking the thoughts of the past out of mind, and laid his head back to rest against the couch he was spread-out across.

"Bakugou you might be more easy going these days, but you still look so damn gloomy all the time…it's scary." Bakugou's eyebrows furrowed, and without looking back to the familiar red-headed source of the voice disturbing him, he scowled.

Kirishima took his own turn to sigh, observing the blonde with concern as he tangled his calloused hands through routinely dyed, bright red hair. He took care spiking tufts of it here and there. His hairstyle hadn't ever really changed since the day he and Bakugou first met.

"Shut it." Bakugou offered tiredly.

The double-shifts his friend had been taking on at the fire station lately, were really beginning to show extent of their physical toll on his body. Fighting fires was nothing to laugh at, Kirishima had heard plenty of stories from Todoroki and Aizawa about the many close calls they'd undergone.

Hell, he would never forget what had happened to All Might either.

Kirishima turned his gaze back to his roomate, and resided to gently trying once again.

"Hey man, seriously you need to get ready, Mina's coming to pick us up soon." The red-head persisted hopefully.

Without a word, Bakugou grunted in acknowledgment as he peeled himself off of the sofa, lumbering away from Kirishima.

Once reaching the doorway leading into his bedroom, Bakugou took a long glance around the flat he and Kirishima had bought together straight out of high school.

They'd spent all their savings, up to that point, on the down payment alone. Somehow, they'd managed to pay the bills until they both found stability in their careers.

Still, even Kirishima somewhere in last five years, found his supposed 'soulmate'. Bakugou was happy for them, though he'd never voice it.

Mina Ashido, a girl he'd never really gotten to know in all their years at U.A., had resurfaced and sparked a newfound relationship with the enthusiastic red-head. From what he had gathered, Kirishima and the pink-haired chick had reconnected in the hospital a few years prior to now.

They were truly nauseating to be around, and Bakugou often found himself spending the night at a hotel so he wouldn't inevitably walk in on a scene he really didn't need to plague his memory for the rest of eternity.

The two of them did all the typical happy 'coupley' things. They kissed each other on the cheek when one left for a shift at the hospital, they called each other 'babe' fairly regularly, and they even slept together without the context of sexual expectations.

He shook his head again, remembering how, about a month or so earlier, Kirishima had recruited him to help in his planning of a proposal for the woman.

He had even been there to fucking hand the blubbering idiot a tissue when he started bawling after the alienesque girl said she'd marry the poor sap.

 _Fucking disgusting_ , he thought, his scowl's venomous appearance growing.

"Idiot…" Bakugou muttered lowly to himself as he rummaged through his closet in search of something to wear for the goddamn party. He didn't wear much that didn't involve his firefighter gear. Some would even say he was a minimalist.

After a thorough evaluation of his wardrobe, he settled for a simple pair of jeans, plain black t-shirt and grey blazer. This attire was what composed his standard formal look, and it worked for every single occasion he went to. So, was there a need to change it?

He looked him self over in the mirror as he slipped on a pair of loafers, another staple in his clothing style.

He ran a hand through his unruly blonde mop, contemplating what about him had changed outwardly since the last time he'd seen most of the fuckers from his high school class.

He'd grown a little taller, and put on some more muscle in his rescue training. Nothing else was all that different, he thought, eye-balling the rest of his constitution without much thought.

"Oi, Bakugou! She's here!" Kirishima called out, a tinge of glee present in the man's tone.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, grabbing his personal set of house keys off his bedside table, and not-so-enthusiastically prepared mentally to face his old high school chums.

* * *

The crisp chill of the autumn winds breezed across Katsuki's skin. He walked silently alongside Kirishima and Mina, headed towards the warmth inside Heights Alliance. He clenched his jaw, annoyed for was sure to be a very pointless, and even more boring evening of re-introductions and half-assed pleasantries.

 _Damn,_ he thought to himself, he could be sleeping right now.

As soon as Bakugou, Kirishima, and Mina stepped foot into the familiar expanse of the Height's Alliance common area, the blonde felt a wave of nostalgia hit him square in the chest. His breath hitching responsively.

Hearing the familiar voices, seeing the faces of the people he'd grown and matured alongside. It all made him…a little excited if he was honest...which he ALWAYS fucking was.

But...he wouldn't dare say it aloud.

"BAKUGOU!" Katsuki stiffened as he heard a high-pitched bellow near him. He prepared his body to hold his hand out in _3…2…1…._

 _Smack_!

"Ow, Bakugou it's been so long but you're still as cold as ever." He turned to look over Kaminari Denki, who was currently rubbing his cheek and whining like wuss.

He fought the urge to smile, relieved to see one of the pals who used to follow him around like a lost puppy outside of classes from back in the day.

Kaminari seemed a little more like a man than Katsuki previously remembered, still a little bitch, but his hair was shorter and his frame broader than before. His red eyes narrowed on a gold ring planted on Kaminari's left hand.

 _Another one bites the dust huh?_ He thought, annoyed.

"Damn straight Pikachu." He mumbled without as much bite as he would've liked. The clown in return, giggled nervously, before turning his sporadic and child-like attention to Kirishima.

"Ei!" he cried.

"Denki!" The latter replied, with just as much jubilation.

Fighting the urge to slap both idiots, Bakugou shifted his gaze to overlook the rest of the room. He could see that nearly everybody from class 1A was present.

"Kacchan!" Bakugou felt his hair stand on end as that damn age-old nickname grated against his ears for what felt like an eternity.

He grimaced, making eye contact with the green-haired nuisance. He should've remembered that the damn nerd would show up to something like this. How that had slipped his mind, he didn't know.

Many important things seemed to slip out of his grasp these days...

"Oi." He returned, remaining surprisingly civil, and raising a hand up in a casual greeting.

Deku approached him, beaming with joy at Katsuki's calm demeanor. Deku stood a good few inches taller than him now. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that difference.

Deku's growth spurt came on right about the time they'd all graduated. Nobody expected his scrawny little ass to ever amount to…well the huge goddamn teddy bear he was now.

"It's good to see you! Kirishima said you might not make but I'm glad you ended up coming." He chirped brightly, his usual bubbly charisma testing Bakugou's tolerance for sunshine and rainbows.

"Yeah, I decided there wasn't much else to do since Aizawa gave me the fucking day off just so I couldn't avoid this catastrophe." He saw Deku's perfect composure flinch a bit, and bit back a smirk.

What? Had the brat never heard a cuss word in his entire sheltered little life?

"Ah I see you're still working under Aizawa then, how is Sensei doing these days? I never have the time to catch up with anybody, too busy with all the cases I get." The timbre of Deku's voice heightened, as he awaited Katsuki's response, smiling wide.

Katsuki blinked and remembered that Deku had become a lawyer, an unexpected feat no one had seen coming.

"The old man is doing fine I guess, same shit as always, just lots of sleeping and bossing me around." He gruffed, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets.

"I see you still have such a dirty mouth even after growing up so much, Bakugou-chan." Bakugou chuckled as Deku's little lady chimed into their conversation. Concocting a searing retort to her sarcasm with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"I see you're still as lively as a pebble on the side of the road, even after marrying this over-hyped bastard." He shot back, snickering deviously, as Asui simply looked away, bored with his attitude.

She instead turned her attention to the little girl sprinting around the boundaries of the common area. Bakugou followed her maternal instinct, laying his sights on the kid.

Deku's daughter looked...well like Deku. She was short, skinny, and way too happy.

"Hey I meant to ask Kacchan, but where's Kirshima? I want to congratulate him and Mina-chan on their engagement!" Bakugou pointed in the direction of the happy couple, without a sound, annoyed by Deku's ever-present polite mannerisms.

 _Ting! Ting! Ting!_

Bakugou followed behind the footsteps of his peers lead as they turned to see Iida banging a metal spoon against a wine glass, with the same old tight-ass expression. He was standing straight-backed atop a table in the center of the room. His eyes dead-set on each of their listening faces.

"Everyone! Welcome to our class reunion! Please feel free to continue your reminiscing and remember that the open bar is in the north corner of the kitchen!"

There was a resounding cheer to four-eyes's announcement, and Bakugou yawned instead, moving away from the lively corral in the center to take up the offer of free alcohol in the back.

After procuring a hefty shot of whiskey, and nursing a bottle of beer, Katsuki resigned himself to the comfort of leaning against the wall in the far side of the energetic expanse. He was never much for this kind of gathering in the first place.

He grimaced as he scanned over each smiling face in the crowd…they were all so damn...naïve.

Did any of them understand what it meant to live in reality? Because reality was a cold bitch.

How they all managed to act so fucking happy, when that fact hung in the balance over each and every one of their heads, eluded him.

In his solitary introspection he noticed something out of place in the sea of laughter and small talk. There slumped against the wall opposite to himself was a face he nearly didn't recognize. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a tight-lipped smile.

Ochako Uraraka.

It had been a damn minute since he'd caught sight of that broad.

He eyed her appearance thoughtfully, slowly realizing more and more about her had changed since he'd last laid eyes on her.

Her short choppy brown hair was longer, grown out to hang over the right side of her face, nearly touching her shoulder. Her body still retained the same attractive curves she'd had in adolescence, but her usual pink-cheeked easy-going countenance, and bubbly aura, were oddly pale and dull from what he could observe.

He was too far to tell for certain, but her normally fiery brown eyes, the ones that always seemed to be ready for a fight, seemed...lifeless.

Her body was slumped awkwardly, her left shoulder balancing on the wall to kept her even-footing on the ground.

 _Was she fucked up?_ He wondered, trying to remember if Uraraka was a lightweight from his memories of the times they would all drink 'illegally' in school.

Before he was close enough to make a definitive call, he watched curiously as the brunette reached into her purse to pulled out a silver flask. He stifled a laugh.

 _Uraraka_ fucking _Ochako_ had a flask...what the hell?

Once she'd downed a decent-sized swig of whatever liquid was contained within the metal bounds, she locked her eyes onto Deku.

"Heyyy Deku-kun come here!" she slurred, gesturing provocatively with her index finger. Her call was loud enough that their nearby friends turned to stare at her, an unsettling expression etched into each of their faces as she raised her flask once again, and waved to the nerd more insistently.

This wasn't at all what Uraraka from his school days was like. Something was off.

Bakugou frowned, vaguely remembering that Kirishima had mentioned something to him about the girl awhile back. Something about how she'd quit her job as a private detective because of some kind of incident.

He strained, racking his brain with no luck.

The details were lost on him.

He continued to merely observe at a safe distance, as Deku cautiously stalked over towards the intoxicated woman. His normally timid presence morphing into a kind of distant concern.

Why the hell was everyone acting so weird all of a sudden?

He definitely recalled Uraraka being one of the more popular girls in their class, so why the heavy-ass tension?

"It's good to see you Deku-kunnn." She cooed jabbing a wobbly finger into his chest playfully as she shoved the flask back into her purse, stumbling a few steps in the process.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

"It's nice to see you here with all of your happpppy family for once, did you finally find someone who was good enough for 'the' Izuku Midoriya?" she continued, her upbeat tone taking a note of bitterness.

Deku watched her, eyes locked on to one another, at a loss for words. A rare sight.

"Uraraka-san, this really isn't the time or the place-"

"Why're you being so damn formal huh? 'Uraraka-san' what the hell is that?" she yelled mockingly, a bigger audience began to notice the uncomfortable scene playing out behind them. When she noticed she glared back at the nosy onlookers and, with little grace, shoved past Deku as she made her way away from the gathering.

Bakugou scowled, confused by the situation, and moved instinctively after his drunken classmate.

"I wouldn't interfere in that if I were you." Katsuki paused, smiling deviously as he craned his neck backwards to bore holes into Todoroki's stupid, bi-colored head.

"The hell if I'll listen to you half n' half." He spat, annoyed by the latter's meddling.

"Bakugou." He continued, raising his voice slightly, notes of severity in them.

"She and Midoriya have _a lot_ of unfinished business with each other that doesn't concern you or any of the rest of us. It didn't end well, and especially with Uraraka's current condition, I wouldn't try and add any insult to injury." He stated as monotonously as ever.

Ever since high school, Bakugou had always wondered who had shoved a stick so far up Todoroki's ass that it had gotten permanently stuck up there, poking around and constantly making him churn out the most annoying cheap shot commentary.

"Fuck off." He answered curtly, and continued towards the direction he'd seen Uraraka flee towards.

He looked back to see Deku standing aimlessly, an odd look of guilt on his face. Katsuki could see the regret swirling so deep in Deku's eyes he thought he could probably reach out and feel it. Tsuyu came just in time to soothe her woman's flustered emotions as Bakugou turned away once again.

He could care less.

He was more intrigued by the bizarre nature of the bubbly air-headed woman, who'd practically sprinted out of the building with as much grace as she'd ever possessed, which was none.

This kind of behavior, was not what he was expecting. He offhandedly thought the night might not be so boring after all.

Discreetly, Bakugou followed the dark corridor of the outside hallway until he heard the distinct sounds of vomiting.

 _Fucking great_ , he thought.

He peered into the old courtyard, catching sight of a bobbing mess of aurburn-colored hair, as he approached a very sweaty Uraraka. She was coughing as the acidic bile coated her lips.

"Long time no see, angel-face." He greeted, and was met with another warm and pleasant round, full of hacking and sniffles, as the Ochako's stomach contents were spilled out across the grass.

"Fuck off Bakugou." She wheezed coldly, the strength of her body failing her as she tried to gather her splayed knees.

He was somewhat surprised by her harsh tone, but it didn't discourage him from teasing her a bit. It had been a long time.

"Damn, adulthood made you feisty." he taunted, and watched intently as she swayed into an upright position peering warily into his eyes with her big brown orbs.

He knew that round face better than anyone else's in his class. Even better than Kirishima's.

The reason for this being, that, she never looked him in the eye without an electrifying spark of challenge present in her chocolate depths. Uraraka was never boring, and she was always ready to throw down, that was what he liked about her in the first place.

And so, he was confused now, as to why after all those times looking down into her glimmering gaze, that he was met with an all-encompassing _nothingness_.

Her eyes were no more alive than those of a dead fish.

It was puzzling to him, why that flare was missing from her. Those burning embers that made his blood burn with excitement.

"Surely you didn't just come out here to watch me vomit and gawk at my face." She seethed angrily, pulling him out of his confusion.

She was radiating a 'stay the hell away' vibe, but it didn't bother him in the slightest. He had fought fires, much hotter than the one sweltering inside of Uraraka, daily.

"Not really." He returned nonchalantly, amused by the irritation clear in Uraraka's delicate features.

"Then why the fuck are you here?" It was equally as confusing to him, as it was intriguing, that the sweet and innocent Uraraka he remembered had taken on his bad habit of using foul language.

"What? You're just going to stare some more-ah!" Katsuki reacted quickly, using his reflexes to catch Uraraka's arm as her ankle twisted in on itself. He saw a look of panic flash vibrantly throughout her brown orbs before she slapped his hand away, her ass hitting the ground with a solid thud.

"Don't you fucking touch me…" she hissed, her breathing labored, the fear evident on her face as her hands shook.

He stood quietly by her side until her breathing evened out again, wondering why she was so rattled by his attempt to fucking HELP her drunk ass.

"Listen, if you _really_ want the absolute _joy_ of my company, then you have to do two things for me Bakugou." He listened, fully interested in her ensuing offer for no other reason than pure boredom.

"First, you need to get me some tequila." He frowned taking her current state into note, but nodded regardless.

"Second, you can take one of these…" she slowly raised her middle finger, making sure he could see it clearly, and flaunted it up at him.

"…and shove it up your ass." He couldn't help but smirk at her obscenity, wasted Uraraka wasn't half-bad, her glare softened slightly.

"You got it, angel-face." He chuckled, obliging her demands by slipping back into the party and quickly grabbing a bottle of tequila before returning outside. As he sauntered back towards Uraraka he shifted the weight of the bottle in his hands, finding the feeling comfortable.

He found the girl unconscious. Passed out cold on the ground, her resting face looking much more familiar to him than the mask she'd worn when she was conscious minutes earlier.

He bent down and checked her pulse, exhaling in relief when he felt the steady pounding rhythm in her wrist.

Assessing the situation, he groaned and begrudgingly removed his jacket, pulling it over the brunette to cover her bare shoulders. In a single swift motion, he picked her limp body up off of the ground, finding her light and easy to carry.

Uraraka only made slight, indecipherable sounds of disturbance as she settled in within his arms. He trotted off in the direction of the courtyard's exit until he stopped remembering that he hadn't driven to U.A. in the first place.

"Shit…" he breathed in frustration, re-positioning his arms so that he could fish around inside his pocket for his cell phone.

He dialed the one person he thought would be willing to bail him out of the unfortunate predicament.

It took two rings before he got an answer.

" _Bakugou...what is it?"_

"Aizawa, can you come to the school? I need a favor." he replied in a hushed tone.

"… _hang tight."_ he heard the older man grumble, before the tone signaling the call had ended beeped in his ear.

Bakugou managed to shove his phone back into his pants before searching for somewhere comfortable to squat, while he waited.

That bottle of tequila was sure going to help his festering mood after all.

* * *

"Bakugou." Katsuki was on his feet with little effort, grateful for Aizawa's presence, as well as the warm escape he could seek away from the cold air inside his car.

Manuevering Uraraka's splayed limbs into the backseat, Bakugou extended his arms after she was secured. Stretching them out to ease the tension of holding her form against his chest for almost a half hour.

"I hope you've got a good explanation as to why one of my former student's is unconscious and reeking of alcohol in the back of my car." Bakugou snorted as he shut the door to the passenger side, using more force then necessary.

"You got any clue where Uraraka lives?" he grunted flatly, avoiding the backstory on the situation at hand.

He shifted to avoid Aizawa's harsh glare, choosing instead to peer out of the side window, up towards the dark indigo ceiling of the sky. It was littered with pricks of white light, showing surprisingly well in the city.

"Bakugou, you call me to come on my night away from the station and expect me to do your bidding with no questions asked?" Aizawa reprimanded sternly, his eyes fixated on the road before them, his brows furrowed more then usual.

"Tch." Bakugou sighed, and turned around to check on Uraraka's condition. She was drooling a comical amount of spit over the leather upholstery of Aizawa's precious seats, snoring soundly.

"I don't really have any answers for you, she got shit-faced at that damn reunion thing and I decided to take her somewhere that was better than U.A.'s dirty backyard." He explained, keeping his tone level since he _was_ appreciative of Aizawa's willingness to help him out.

He was well aware that this entire thing looked kind of strange and out of character for him. Saving the damsel in distress was more of a Deku, or even Kirishima thing.

"I see…" he began, the cutting sting of his gray eyes dropping slightly.

"She's gotten worse then." Bakugou eyed his former teacher with confusion.

"Everyone keeps mumbling that something happened to her, I don't know what the hell they're talking about." He stated, shooting a look in the driver's direction.

He noted that Aizawa's grip shifted uncomfortably on the steering-wheel, his knuckles turning white.

"It's not really my place to say anything more than what the media has already covered, so I'll share at least that with you Bakugou." The blonde continued to watch him, listening intently even if his outward appearance didn't reflect it.

"About 4 years ago, there was an incident involving Uraraka's police station and a drug ring that went badly. Uraraka was the head detective working undercover in the authority's operation to expose and arrest the leaders of the ring, except…" Entranced by the dark animosity he watched overcome his chief, Bakugou cocked an eyebrow.

Aizawa's gripped the rim of the steering wheel so tight, Bakugou wondered if it might cave in under the pressure. Aizawa's shoulders were cocked and raised, the tension in them obvious. A sigh escaped from between his teeth as he gathered his composure.

"...except Uraraka's position was given away before the police ever made a move on the gang…and it ended _badly_ for her." He finished solemnly, his monotonous voice holding a residing tone of disgust.

"That so?" Bakugou responded quietly, his eyes clouding with possibilites as he saw the road leading up to he and Kirishima's flat coming to an abrupt end.

Aizawa's car came to a steady halt, and the man shifted his steely gaze to the blonde sitting beside him, channeling all of his fatherly authority into what he said next.

"Bakugou listen," he began, hesitating until Bakugou met his forceful gaze.

"The Uraraka you knew in high school is not the same as the one who is behind us now. She has endured far more then you or I could even begin to imagine..." Bakugou could read the severity of the situation clearly in Aizawa's voice. But he had no idea how he was supposed to respond. What was he even supposed to say?

So, she'd been through hell and back. That didn't mean it was any of his business.

"Treat her kindly." Aizawa finished as Bakugou unfastened the seatbelt restraining him inside the suddenly suffocating atmosphere of the car.

"I got it, thanks for the ride." He mumbled, leaning down to pull Uraraka out of the tight enclosure, trying to make sure he didn't bash her head against the doorway in the process.

His head continued running over several scenarios of what kind of things could have happened to her as he carried the slumbering brunette into his house.

He flipped on a light switch with his elbow, and used his heel to shut the door behind him with a bang. Scanning across the illuminated floor, he noted that there were no tripping hazards in sight, he continued on back towards his bedroom.

He wondered what kind of things she'd gone through in the years that he'd gone about his business as usual. He wondered what could've occurred that was so unspeakable his chief couldn't even look him in the eye when talking about it.

 _Assault?_ he thought as he slid her into the sheets of his bed gently and with little difficulty, pulling the grey-colored comforter up high enough rest over Uraraka's small frame.

 _Torture?_ he pondered.

Whatever they'd done, he decided, if it was bad enough to make Aizawa angry, he didn't want to know what she'd experienced.

His eyes trailed over Uraraka's sleeping form as she shifted positions, inadvertently turning her roundish face towards him in the dim sheen of the moonlight.

His crimson orbs ran along the entire length of her delicate features, taking in her big round eyes, the slim bridge of her nose, and even the plump curve to her tinted cheeks. He continued trailing towards her slender neck until his gaze finally reached the creamy hue of her arms that were splayed out hazily, pointing in different directions.

He stopped cold when he saw the small horizontal scars that marred the smooth continuity of her skin. He brought his face closer, and reached out a calloused hand, just barely grazing the raised lines.

"Uraraka…" he murmured gently, his muddled expression shrouded by the cover of his spiky blonde hair. The meaning behind those scars beginning to dawn on him as he pulled away.

 _What happened to you?_


	2. A Request

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.**

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

Chapter 2: A Request

' _What a pretty face…such a shame to mess it up.'_

Her vision was blurred as the distinct image of a dirt floor came into focus, her throat burned like it had been singed by some sort of chemical as she took in a shallow breath of air. Where was she?

' _C'mon now I like to see a pretty face like this when I'm in a woman.'_

She felt rough fingers glide across her cheeks harshly gripping her chin and then forcing her to look up at her captor's face. She was met with a deviant expression that made her heart sink deep into her chest.

A surge of fear chilled through her veins.

This was the face of a monster. Curled lips, and cold eyes lurking with a dark sinister glow.

These were the singular details she'd never be able to erase from her memory. They were burned onto the back of her lids forever like a brand.

She made an effort to move, but felt the pit in her stomach weigh heavier when her body refused to twitch a single muscle.

This wasn't good. She thought frantically as dread accompanied the overwhelming sense of terror flooded making her mind race.

Her position had been given away, they knew who she was. They knew why she was there.

Being a lone woman among criminals her mind could only come up with a few possible outcomes for her situation. She prayed they would knock her out before it came to any of them.

' _How bout we leave the face for last, and tear up the other goods first? Huh Dave?'_

A bone-chilling snicker trickled out of the men's mouths as they eyed her body hungrily.

Ochako shut her eyes tightly, willing her body with every ounce of strength she possessed to scream. But there was no sound, not even a whimper, that escaped her unresponsive lips.

They had drugged her, she was certain of that now. Many gangs she'd busted had used a similar kind on victims they abducted or on clients who didn't pay the fee.

She'd always wondered what that must've felt like.

Yet, here she was, experiencing it firsthand what it was like to be fully aware of her surroundings and unable to react to any of it.

Paralyzed.

She was paralyzed but conscious.

Hands gripped her torso tightly, and her line of sight shifted now to the ceiling of the factory building. The lights were blaring down on her, making her feel even more on display than she had.

The police were on their way, surely by now. Maybe they would make it before…before what she was sure was about to happen.

Her trail of thoughts faltered as a maniacal grin came into her line of sight. The man's eyes were glazed in lust and amusement.

Was he having fun seeing her limp body pressed into the dirt?

She tried once again to move anything, even just the tip of her fingers, with no success.

' _Hey baby girl you know how we treat snitches?'_

She heard him sneer, a chuckle resounding in his throat. Hot breath fanned over her neck, landing sickeningly close to her ear. Involuntary shivers ran down the length of her spine.

' _We show them just how little they can actually control by putting this tiny pill in their mouth, and then…well…I guess you're about to find out what happens next.'_

Uraraka did her best to keep her eyes steeled, she didn't want to become the shell of a person she once was. She'd seen so many women who'd experienced a traumatic rape lose themself. SHe was stronger than that...she needed to believe she was stronger than that.

She wanted to show these assholes that no matter what they did to her, it wasn't enough to make her spirit break.

This was her body, even if they abused that, she still had her resolve...her pride.

She felt determination waver slightly as sharp nails raked across her pale skin, drawing blood.

They then proceeded to drag across her collar, her shirt being ripped open to expose her ample chest. The material sagged away pitifully to her sides.

She brought force every ounce of malice she could draw on, and forced it into a glare at her attackers.

He had cold dark eyes, so black she couldn't see even a hint of light anywhere inside. They were like holes that had no end, no foreseeable escape from the hell crawling out of them like demons.

' _Hey Dave? That pill is gonna keep'er from fighting us right?'_

Stay strong Ochako, Strong! She kept repeating in her mind over and over as she tried to separate her mind from her body.

She thought of Deku, his green eyes filled with passion and his wide-set smile. What would he do if he were in this predicament? Would he give up?

' _The dosage we gave her should keep her from even forming a whisper let alone movement.'_

These bastards…she thought.

' _Ah that's too bad._ '

She watched a head of ruffled brown hair turn towards her. This one's eyes boring over her displayed assets, and tongue darting out to lick over his lips.

Foreign hands wandered over the flesh of her torso, exploring places they didn't belong in.

Everywhere they touched felt cold.

Every slap, every scrape, and every forming bruise they left in their wake chipped away piece by piece at her iron-will. Until...eventually her sanity threatened to crumble completely as they began to invade her in other areas.

The leaders blackened orbs found her darting brown ones again, locking on and refusing to look away. He gave her a twisted smile before he spoke.

' _I really like it when they scream.'_

* * *

"Ah!" Ochako awoke to the sounds of muffled conversation in the background of the atmosphere, as she gasped for air. She looked to her hands, extending and curling each finger in turn.

She could move. She was okay. She wasn't in _that_ place.

 _Just another nightmare?_ She thought hazily, her eyes fogginess dissipating as she took in her surroundings.

 _Where the hell am I?_

"…wait so you two hooked up?…" Uraraka ignored the ringing male voices for a moment as she sat upright, feeling an intense pang of nausea run through her stomach, an unpleasant chill traveling the length of her body.

She'd definitely regret getting this drunk in a few short hours, she was certain of it.

"NO…Aizawa said…I couldn't just leave….there…"

The room she was currently residing in, wasn't a very big one. It was modestly furnished, pretty plain. Almost minimalist-esque.

The sheets and comforter weighing over her were piled around her limbs like waves colored a deep shade of grey. She turned her curious gaze to the walls.

There were a few pictures hung on the walls, figures within the photos were too far away for her to make out. There was nothing else really laying around for decorative purposes, a few indiscriminate nick-knacks here and there.

This _had_ to be a guy's place.

She stood up and wobbled on unsteady feet from the bed, trying to be as quiet as she could manage so that she could get her bearings before facing whatever good Samaritan had taken her in.

She realized she was still dressed in the clothes she'd worn to the class 1A reunion. How long had she been out for this time? She couldn't recall much, she'd purposely gotten hammered before the whole shebang anyway.

Being in the same room as Deku and his wife, Tsuyu, and their kids...it was just a little bit much for the fragile semblance of sanity she had left in her skull.

At least whoever had picked her up had the decency not to undress her…not that it mattered anymore these days.

One look at the plethora of marks and scars covering her skin, and they'd run like the devil.

"…it's funny because wasn't she your high school crush?..."

"SHUT UP SHITTY HEAD!" Yep, she thought, that voice had to belong to Bakugou.

No other person alive could simultaneously yell and growl like Katsuki Bakugou. Still she found herself frowning as she neared the pictures placed by his bedside. He was smiling peaceably alongside what she assumed were his parents, looking more cheerful than she'd ever seen in person.

Had he been the one to take care of her while she was out cold?

That wasn't really something she would have expected out of the hot-head she knew from high school.

She did recall he had a secret sweet side though, he'd almost never reveal that part of himself to anyone. He would probably die trying to defend his tsundere image, and if someone tried to prove they knew anything different from the typical scowl and childish antics he displayed, they'd wind up with a broken nose.

She eyed a large pair of black sweatpants and black t-shirt inscribed 'AJI FRY', that was definitely too big for her.

Yeah, this was 100% Bakugou's place she knew that tell-tale outfit anywhere.

It had been along time since she'd seen pretty much any of her classmates, not that that really meant anything to her anymore anyways.

Uraraka tended to spend her days at a random run-down bar with cheap booze, and after getting completely wasted to the point that she could no longer think clearly, or remember how many bottles she'd looked into the bottom of, she would pass out in her dirty hole of an apartment.

It was the only thing she could to do escape the tortures of sobriety for at least a little while.

When she didn't drink, it only made the flashbacks and nightmares she experienced daily even worse. Numbing those memories was a far better alternative in her opinion to reliving them at full-throttle.

She was willing to do almost anything to avoid the feeling of that deep lingering emptiness inside her, the consequences didn't mean shit in the long-run.

She tried to recall, as she slipped out of her grungy, vomit-stained clothing and into, a surprisingly clean-scented pair of men's attire, what had led up to this particularly enchanting episode of unconsciousness.

She seemed to remember confronting Deku, seeing his curly green hair, and big emerald orbs filled with concern…and then seeing Katsuki's glowering face staring down at her from up high. But unfortunately that was about it, that was all she could muster out of her inebriated memory.

She'd just made an ass of herself again huh?

She was just a big disappointment to everyone in her life now it seemed. Even the ones she hadn't seen in years.

She took solace sometimes in the fact that she hadn't come face to face with those peers in so long they'd maybe forgotten about her miserable little existence.

They were the people who marked the end of her days as a carefree teenager who knew _so_ little about the way the world really worked.

They didn't see how fucked up she become because of her own immaturity.

Life wasn't an ocean of dreams even if you worked hard every single minute of every single day to achieve something far off in the distance.

There was always someone who could steal that wide-eyed idiocy away from your fingertips, and show you just how little you actually mean. They could have you drowning in the depths of reality with a single motion.

She was no different from anybody else, she was just a speck of insignificance drifting in a planet filled with people much stronger than she would ever be.

She was just one little prickle of nothing that millions of people would forget about in time.

Sighing heavily, she turned the silver door handle at the exit of the bedroom, preparing herself for a sure-to-be awkward encounter with the 'splodey' boy from her past.

Was he angry? Would he be shocked at how little she had come to amount to?

After all those years telling him just how soon she would become something amazing, would he laugh in her face?

"Hey man I'm just saying I'm proud of you for…" she overheard the trailing sentence, and looked up with clouded brown orbs to see vibrant red hair and a surprised expression.

Kirishima lived here too? Great, just great.

"U-Uraraka! How're you feeling? I heard you had a little too much to drink last night." She could practically feel the awkward tension strangling her. She fought the urge to vomit again and instead turned to look around her.

"Yeah sorry about that, I just got a little carried away." She managed a small, half-hearted smile, trying to ward off any prying questions. It was hard to hide just how little she cared about this exchange behind a false cheery façade.

"It's no problem! Bakugou here actually got you out of there without too many people seeing...the state you were in." Uraraka turned her tired gaze towards the aforementioned blonde.

He looked like he'd changed a little since the last she remembered. He was a man now, with a fuller build and more well-defined muscles than she expected. His hair was still as unruly as ever, the style still the same as it was back in high school.

That part of him at least was the same. She thought, oddly comforted by the familiarity.

"Oh really?" She acted surprised, playing up her voice so that she could get out as soon as possible.

"Thanks Bakugou I appreciate you looking out for me!" she was annoyed by the insincere sound of her own voice. It's phony trill echoed throughout the expanse they stood in, and it made her want to slam her head against a nearby wall.

Maybe if she managed to knock herself out, Bakugou would take her out to the street and leave her out there so she didn't have to continue speaking in this manner.

She took into note, the unflinching glare she was currently receiving from him. His steady blood-red orbs clearly saw through what she wanted to hide away.

She'd always really hated that about him.

Ever since high school Bakugou could see right through all her attempts to switch an uncomfortable subject or avoid talking about something that unnerved her.

He always knew. He always understood that about her. Most times, he called her out on it too.

She wasn't unable to understand him either, but it felt like he always had some kind of upper hand when it came to seeing the real intent behind a person's actions.

Bakugou, must to her relief, said nothing about her lie, and instead turned towards the kitchen. She knew, that he knew, that her heart wasn't behind anything she was saying.

Everything that fell out of her lips were just empty, air-headed words. The kind of talk that always pissed off Katsuki.

Kirishima on the other hand, as always, was appalled by Bakugou's cold demeanor and actions.

"Oi Bakugou!" the red-head scolded in hushed tone, trying to wrangle in the indomitable Katsuki Bakugou's attitude with a jab of warning to the arm.

A flicker of surprise caught her off-guard when she saw Bakugou turn back towards her, a steaming cup of coffee and two orange tablets of aspirin in hand.

"Here." He said in a raspy authoritative voice that left her speechless.

Maybe knowing that he could figure her out in a second made her feel somewhat at ease? Or maybe she was still kind of fucked up from the drinking.

She took a sip of the coffee, impressed with the rich flavor in it's dark makeup.

Had she gotten so bad that Bakugou felt the need to take care of her now?

If she'd learned anything in the past few years, it was that the people you think you can depend on, are really the ones that you should trust the least.

Even though she 'knew' him, she wasn't going to let her guard down for a second.

"You look like hell." The blonde commented dryly, smirk present on his hard features.

She nearly spewed some brown liquid straight onto what looked like a neatly tucked fireman's uniform.

"Ha, you never beat around a bush." She chuckled sarcastically. His blunt way of speaking was deeply appreciated. She really didn't have much tolerance for small-talk bullshit.

Scanning around the complex, she could hear the distinct drumming and clanking of a washing machine in the distance. Birds sang high-pitched greetings as the first rays of the morning began to illuminate the hard wood flooring underneath her bare feet.

This place was…nothing like where she lived.

This place had some kind of meaningful life taking place inside its decorated walls.

She truly didn't belong here…she held no importance in the world.

"So, you became a fireman?" she asked, intrigued while looking back up to Bakugou's surly gaze.

"Hell yeah." He admitted proudly, his chest flaring reflexively.

She peered to the doorway and saw a heavy dark coat lined with reflective stripes and smudges of soot. It must've been part of Bakugou's gear for work.

"I see…" she trailed, her eyes darkening as she thought about how he ended up becoming a savior in his own unique way. Just like he had always said he would. Even Deku had always said Katsuki never went back on his word when he said he was going to do something.

"Um Uraraka! I'd love to stay and catch up but I have to be on my way! Me and Mina need to get to the hospital! We both have the early shift today." Kirishima interrupted politely, silencing her inner monologue.

"Oh yeah? Don't let me keep you! Tell Mina I said hi!" Uraraka missed the subtle glance of concern shared between Bakugou and Kirishima, as Kirishima turned towards the exit of the flat a smile planted on his face, and a hand thrown up in farewell.

The two men had an unspoken understanding, that something was really off about Uraraka, something they'd discuss at a later time.

"Wouldn't forget it!" The red-head called as the door shut behind his well-muscled backside.

Uraraka sighed and then turned to find Bakugou back's turned to her again, his front facing the kitchen counter a few feet away from where her feet where planted.

She glanced at a clock on the microwave. It was about 6 in morning.

"Oi, round-face." Uraraka ignored his age-old nickname he'd bestowed on her since their first interaction and frowned.

"Hm?" she answered evenly, moving closer to where he was instinctively.

"You hungry?" she was kind of surprised by the offer, but yes, she was incredibly hungry.

"Depends on if you include booze." She replied, her eyes flicking around to try and locate any available bottles.

She heard Bakugou chuckle deeply.

The blonde turned to slide a steaming omelet and a HUGE bottle of hot sauce in front of her face. Oh yeah, she remembered, he liked spicy food.

He sat down at the dining table after she took the plate from his hands, and gestured sluggishly to the chair in front of him. She sat down with little hesitation.

"Sorry to break it to you but the bar in this house is closed at 6 in the morning, cheeks." She sighed dramatically in disappointment, prodding the omelet loosely with a fork.

She didn't really deserve this kind of treatment.

"Figured you'd be tired of that shit by now anyways." He continued as he sank his teeth deep into his food. He made a face and then drowned his meal in hot sauce.

"Hmm…clearly you don't know me very well anymore Bakugou." Katsuki narrowed his crimson eyes at her snide comment, and then continued to eat as he thought of how to proceed in the bizarre situation.

"Yeah, about that." He began, studying her face for any details that would make it easier to understand exactly _who_ she was now anyway. The image of her scarred arms from late in the previous night surfaced to the forefront of his mind.

"Did something...happen to you?" He asked calmly, watching as her brows raised slightly, brown eyes widening. They were filled with a thick and heavy flood of emotions he couldn't pinpoint fast enough.

Her lashes caste a dim shadow on her cheeks, her hair falling gently, effectively obscuring her orbs from his view.

She tugged at the sleeves of his shirt that she was wearing, unaware she was hiding the horizontal scars cut deep onto the surface of her thin wrists.

"I should…I should probably get out of your hair, right? You have a job to get to or you wouldn't be up this early." He huffed in frustration, she dodged of his question with ease. He decided against pushing her on the matter.

It was his own damn fault for asking that kind of thing so early in the fucking morning.

"Yeah, I can drop you off if you need, the fire station isn't far from here." He really was actually curious to know just where on earth she lived. With her state being what it was, he couldn't picture it.

If he'd been thinking about the good ole' Uraraka from high school, she'd probably be living in a modest one-person apartment with minimal furnishing and a overly fluffy cat or some shit like that.

"That's alright, really." She assured warily, he knew she'd never been one to be keen on help. She stood up from the table, her meal untouched as she made her way towards the hallway leading to the rooms in his flat.

She disappeared into his bedroom, he listened as he heard sounds of clothes being dragged and stretched, then shortly after Uraraka reappeared with her jeans from the previous night on her shapely legs, grass stains and all. His black AJI FRY shirt still covering her thin torso.

"U-Um so this shirt-" she stammered.

"Keep it, I've got like a million of em." He interrupted, looking away from her as he sipped on his own mug of coffee, feeling an odd sense of disappointment that she was going to walk out the front door.

"R-Right." She stuttered, clearly uncomfortable.

Was it just his presence?

Or had his question really rattled her that much?

He watched carefully as she sauntered over towards the front door, her hand landing gently on the handle as she turned back to look at him.

He took in her face, noting every fine detail, burning it into his memory.

"Thanks for y'know…dealing with my shit Bakugou." And with that brief gratitude, shrouded in a subtle tone of embarrassment, she was out of his door, nothing but her lingering scent of tequila remaining.

An unexpected feeling of excitement coursed through him, but it was disappearing with her as she got farther and farther away. Leaving him to dwell in the emptiness she'd left behind, confused as hell as to why his heart was beating wildly against his chest.

"You're welcome." He whispered into the silence.

* * *

Hours had passed since Uraraka had left Kirishima and Bakugou's shared flat. She had spent most of her day counting out how much money she had left in her bank account and how many shots the leftover amount of cash could buy her.

It wasn't like she was proud of the fact that she was doing this to herself. It had simply become a necessity to continue living.

Drinking until you forgot, lots of people did that right?

She downed another glass of clear fiery liquid, relishing in the sear of its contents, and realized that the sunlight outside had faded away.

The street lights were the only dim flicker of light in the dusk overshadowing the evening.

"Miss?" Ochako drearily bobbed her head to the side to look curiously into the blue eyes of a young bartender. He looked like he was just a kid.

"Huh?" she slurred, propping herself up onto her elbows.

"I'm sorry about this but I'm going to have to cut you off." He whispered fervently, looking in both directions as he said it, as if someone else would get offended.

She merely rolled her eyes and moved to stand, but found her footing was not as ready to leave as she, herself was.

Damn, she was this drunk two nights in a row, she should've gotten a medal or something. Award for most pathetic being in sight.

The world began to turn sideways until she felt a pair of thick arms secure her from swaying any further towards the dirty floor.

They held her upright, and she was met with a pair of clouded eyes settled intensely on her chest.

"Hey you alright there babe?" Ugh, not another one of these guys. She thought. Not when she was this inebriated.

"Damn you're pretty, a face straight out of heaven I swear. A goddamn _angel_." Uraraka shuddered as that phrase was mumbled smoothly beside her ear.

A flash of cold black eyes and a wide twisted smile ran across her eyes like a scene in a movie.

 _Slap!_

Her hand stung as she pushed the lumbering man away with more force than necessary. He held his grimy palm to the side of his reddened cheek, an outline of her fingers clearly visible.

"What the hell, you bitch?" he spat at her venomously, anger replacing the smooth demeanor he had previously held.

"I'm no angel you piece of shit." She hissed back, more malice laced into her words than he expected. She turned and continued to sway towards the exit of the bar eventually making it out without falling flat on her face.

She stumbled along the sidewalk, as more and more all too familiar images plagued her brain.

"…stop…please…stop this…" she kept repeating aloud, as if she could change the acts she was seeing play across her lids.

She felt tears surge to the rims of her eyes as she neared her apartment complex, tearing past onlooking civilians and drug users alike. Their judgmental stares meant nothing to her.

When she finally reached her door, her legs grew heavy and she sank to the ground. Hopelessness invaded her numbed senses, penetrating into her very core. She let the tears she'd been trying to hold back, flow freely as she read the notice posted.

" _Dear Ms. Uraraka, we regret to inform you that as of today you are hereby evicted from this dwelling due to…"_

It wasn't fair, she cried, ripping the note away in frustration.

Her thoughts from earlier that day came to mind as she sobbed pathetically.

She was just a nobody in a sea of people with lives more important than hers.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" she choked out, sobs breaking into her voice. She took her face into her hands as the salty liquid dripped between her trembling fingers and landed with an audible patter onto the cement ledge below.

She blinked, wiping away her tears and snot as her blurry vision cleared.

Her glassy brown eyes landed on the faint outline of bold letters on a black t-shirt that was currently clinging to her shaking figure.

 _Why the hell would he even care? This is my own damn fault for using all of my savings to buy my sanity in bars!_ She chastised herself as her feet began to move of their own accord.

One-foot landing in front of the other as she headed in a direction she had walked away from earlier that very day. They seemed to have a mind and spirit of their own as they trudged forward.

 _He is just going to slam the door in your face and ignore you like everyone else Uraraka!_ She berated, dragging along the street.

She looked onto the familiar building only meters away from her reach. Her legs continued ahead.

 _Turn back_ …she pleaded with her body. Her chest heaving as she tried to take in breath between her sobs.

 _Don't get any closer_! She screamed internally as her hand formed a fist, clenching tightly as it raised upwards and into the air.

 _No!_

 _Knock! Knock! Knock…_

She shivered in the frigid air as it encircled her flesh, chilling the residing tears clinging to her thick lashes as she stood, waiting.

The rasps of her hand rang loudly in her ears.

 _Why are you doing this? Why here?_

A bright yellow light spread over her boots, enveloping her legs and body in a warmth of relief she hadn't known before.

"Uraraka?" she looked up to gape at a head of ash-blonde hair, and fixated crimson eyes. The man in the doorway before her, loomed like a tall wall she couldn't see past. The rough call of her name made her bones ache.

She shivered once again as she tried to find her voice, wrapping her arms around her torso in desperate hope.

 _Leave_! Her said, pushing her once again.

"Bakugou…I have nowhere to go…" she forced out, the need within her voice lacing into each syllable as she stared up into his red eyes, letting him see clearly into hers, her feelings open wide.

She felt a calloused hand clasp lightly around her thin wrist and guide her gently into the bright light of the doorway. She stepped into the expanse she had occupied earlier that morning, some of the weight on her shoulders feeling lifted.

An all-encompassing warmth surrounded her being, and brought new tears of surprise springing from her eyes, dribbling down her chin, as the heat seeped into every part of her body.

She found herself chasing after the person who had taken her into a world she didn't recognize.

A world she didn't seem to belong to.

But when her eyes found his she wasn't afraid…because he was right there beside her. His hand gripped around her arm, keeping her from floating away.

* * *

 **A/N: Chapter 2! I had a really good time writing this and I hope you guys enjoy this continuation, hopefully this progression makes sense. I hope i'm making this transition seem natural. Let me know how you feel about it below! I love your feedback and would love some suggestions as well!**


	3. Here Are The Rules Cheeks

**Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.**

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

Chapter 3: Here Are The Rules Cheeks

 _What the hell am I doing?_

This was the question that had plagued Katsuki's mind since that night.

He could clearly recall opening the door that led to his home, and seeing a certain brown-eyed girl shivering in the cold, tears dripping down her cheeks like a faucet that hadn't been shut off properly.

It was a scene that made the inside of his chest twist in such a god-awful way, he couldn't fucking take it.

He couldn't just leave her out there by herself.

" _Bakugou…I have nowhere else to go…"_

This person was vaguely familiar, but at the same time a complete stranger. He still questioned whether the woman in his flat was truly Ochako Uraraka, or just some phony.

He had never once seen the pleading desperation swirling in her brown depths, like he had that night.

 _Why him?_

This was the other question that had been plaguing him. He just couldn't wrap his mind around why the woman had chosen to track her way back into his home. Uraraka, surely, had her parents, or some other friends she could have stayed with, someone who knew her far better, and was way fucking nicer than he would ever be.

She had never been the silent stand-offish type like he was. She also didn't spout curse words every other damn sentence, like he did.

Basically, it was really fucking confusing as to why **he** was the one she turned to, not that it bothered him. Hell, maybe she couldn't reason it out herself to begin with.

It was strange that she had depended on him in any case.

Normally, Bakugou knew himself well enough to be able to say he would've absolutely slammed the wooden door shut, and told whoever was on the other side to 'fuck off', and figure out how to take of their own damn self.

He wasn't one to wipe a crybaby's ass for them, and put a band-aid over every wound they obtained.

That wasn't how he had been raised. And that sure as hell wasn't the kind of thing that earned his respect.

But something about the flare in Uraraka's eyes had always appealed to him, it reached a side of him he would rather forget most days.

She _was_ tenacious and hard-working. He'd always known that.

She had earned his respect a long time ago; and once someone gained that it was hard to lose once he acknowledged someone as his equal.

Literally, the chick had kicked his ass, whether she was aware of that or not. He'd never forget the sparring sessions class 1-A used to have. It was a habit that prepared them for the martial arts competition in the sport's festival U.A. held each year.

Bakugou would be damned before he'd accept anything less than first place each year.

In a sick twist of fate however, their freshman year, he and Uraraka had been paired up in a stand off...and damn if she didn't deliver.

Before their fight, if someone had asked him what he'd thought about the chubby-cheeked round faced girl, he would have said he thought she'd tap out within seconds of the starting call.

He couldn't have been more full of shit...

Never in his entire life had a girl fought him with such reckless abandon. She tried everything she could, to the point that she very nearly took him out.

He won in the end...but if Uraraka had landed one more blow the outcome would've been flipped.

Even when she was unable to move, her eyes still held those remnants of burning embers of, a silent strength that made his heart race.

No part of her was fragile.

So how did this woman who he'd come to admire...stand before him on that night like he was the only thing that could save her?

The image of her glistening brown orbs haunted him, the fear swirling inside and the cry for someone to understand her pain. She looked broken...

That undaunted, fearless girl with a incessant drive...was just...broken.

The scene had evoked an unforeseen gentle aspect within him.

He didn't know that kind of comforting nature resided somewhere in the dark depths of his personality. His being.

He had pulled her away from the brittle nip of the cold air and into his home, without a second thought, without a spoken word.

It was completely irrationally disturbing to him, how radically his natural defensive instinct seemed lower around the brunette.

Thus led into the last few days of Ochako's ill-defined and undiscussed arrangement of living inside of Bakugou's flat.

Each morning in the short few days since she had arrived had gone pretty much the same.

He got up each morning at 6 AM, made breakfast, left enough for her, and then he went to the station to work his shifts.

He had no fucking clue what Uraraka took to doing while he was away in the daylight hours, but when he returned home, covered in ashes and charred remains of fires, the food he'd set aside for her was eaten and the dishes washed.

It was like they were some sort of unspoken married couple, and it wigged him the fuck out.

But oddly enough, Uraraka kept mostly to herself. He didn't have a problem with that, per say, but it did leave a lot of questions and concerns he had unanswered.

One of which included: what the fuck had made her go from a bubbly wide-eyed girl with a dream, to this gloomy introspective woman with a number of scars both visible and locked away that she had no interest in talking to him about?

In the minimal words they had exchanged over the last week, he understood that she had been evicted from whatever shithole she'd been living in previously. He also acquired through difficult means, that she was unemployed, and completely out of money. Ergo she had nothing to offer him other than her illusive company.

This was just a fucking weird situation right?

Bakugou, being the type to not know how to approach any sort of emotional, and/or potentially awkward conversation, turned instead to Mina and Kirishima for some much-needed advice and goddamn sanity.

"So she just like…showed up?" Kirishima asked in a matter-of-fact tone, a skeptical look dawning on his face.

"Yes." Katsuki answered curtly, annoyed by the repetitive nature of their conversation.

"Well man, honestly I don't know what to tell you. Uraraka has been through a lot is all I know, maybe she has no one else except well…you as odd as that seems." The red-head offered, scratching the back of his head as his brows pulled into a furrow. Kirishima didn't have a fucking clue either...great.

"You know Bakugou…" Katsuki shifted his attention the pinkish freak absentmindedly admiring the glittering ring adorning her finger.

"…as condescending as this will probably sound; for all of your less desirable traits you are dependable in a crisis." A vein flared in Katsuki's temple as he fought the urge to throw the chair he was currently occupying at Mina's forehead.

"Your point pinky?" he growled as the pinkette met his gaze, unfazed by the hostility.

"I just think that maybe you should consider just seeing where this whole thing goes. I mean it's not like we aren't all still friends!" she chimed, a fat smile enveloping her face.

Kirishima shared a knowing look with his fiancee, Bakugou hated their seeming telepathic communications, especially nowadays. The engagement seemed to have only added to their ability to speak without him hearing.

"Yeah no amount of distance or time is ever gonna change the friendship that class 1-A has!" Kirishima beamed aloud, looking proudly at Bakugou, who merely listened to his upbeat chatter, looking bored and slightly annoyed.

"Tch." Katsuki frowned, still conflicted about what the hell his next move was in this peculiar circumstance.

"You know Bakugou, since I'm basically all moved in here, you've got an extra bedroom now right?" Bakugou turned back to see the questioning look on the red-head's face, nodding his head slowly.

"Well dude maybe you've just found a new roommate! Sure the way it happened is kind of weird but I was hoping that something interesting would happen for you, your life is way too boring as is." Katsuki stood, his hair standing on end and his murderous facade that rivaled a demon's presence in place. He lifted his middle finger up and thrusted it straight towards the couple.

"Listen fuckwipe I'll live life however the hell I damn well choose!" he yelled, his temper brimming as usual.

Kirishima and Mina laughed in unison, Kirishima even sporting a single tear as he slapped his knees in amusement.

"Hey this is a good sign I haven't seen angry Baku in a long time!" Katsuki glared at each of them in turn and then shifted to grab his coat of the doorway rack, slipping into the warm material with ease. He didn't understand what was so funny about his temper.

"Leaving already?" Mina called after him, a tinge of sadness in her lilting voice. Her yellow eyes followed his form, looking somewhat dejected by his sudden departure.

"Hell yeah I don't need anymore of yall's stupid advice." He opened the door and paused, hands gripping the sturdy frame.

"…besides I gotta figure this whole thing out so…whatever." And with that he slammed the door closed as set off towards his own home.

He'd opted to walk to Kirishima's today instead of ride his bike. It helped to clear his head when mundane problems became too piled up. He hadn't considered how cold it was getting though. He cursed quietly to himself for not thinking ahead of time.

He'd been so caught up in his own mind lately, he couldn't even think straight about his priorities.

His fierce orbs ran across the scenic view spread in front of him, he took into note the deep colorful hues of the tree's leaves and the smell of frost in the wind. There were several people walking about today, and he wished they would have stayed in.

Nature, unbeknownst to most was something he enjoyed, but people on the other hand were not.

Mountain climbing was his favorite pastime apart from cooking, because it afforded the ability to settle in the natural silence of the elements.

A local convenience store caught his eye as he continued along his path, and impulsively he decided to stop inside for relief from the bitter chill and to pick up some things for dinner.

He wondered briefly, as he stared over the limited selection of fresh ingredients before him, what would Uraraka want? Did she like spicy dishes or was she a pussy about that?

Then he stiffened, why the hell did he care anyway, this was HIS house and HIS dinner, she might not even be in their for more than a few days.

He swiped some green onion, pork, broth and miso, among other various spices and produce and went on his merry way, contemplating the steps he would take to make a hot pot.

A sudden memory triggered in his mind as he passed alongside a family on the sidewalk. He eyed the reflective package held in the little boy's hands, he had a huge front-tooth-missing grin plastered over his ruddy cheeks.

"Dad, Mom when I grow up can I be strong enough to never lose to any bad guy, just like Superman?" Katsuki grimaced, his ears perked at the little brat's wishful statement.

He eyed the opened pack of playing cards in the kid's hands. They looked to be various depictions of superheroes, reflected on holographic slots of paper.

His eyes darkened considerably as he focused his muddled scarlet orbs onto the pavement..

He was reminded of how as a kid he used to believe that his talent alone could be enough to win against anything that stood in his way, which one day came to including house-fires.

He was foolish enough to rely on the physical prowess he'd been born with, to the extent that he hadn't realized he needed help to save _everyone_. He was weak too. Just like any other asshole in the world, he just hadn't realized it soon enough.

And he'd paid dearly for that immaturity...

" _Young Bakugou, you have so much room to grow!"_

Katsuki clenched his fist as All Might's words echoed in the back of his mind, and then he slowly uncurled his knuckles, letting the spark of anger be put out by the overwhelming guilt burdening his shoulders. The feeling washed over him like rain, soaking him to the core.

He'd never be able to forget the image of his mentor's outstretched hand among the bright orange and red flames seething all around, hissing as they tried to take bites out of he and All Might. The damning look of bitter acknowledgement on the older man's weathered face as he understood that Katsuki couldn't reach him among the charred debris.

Katsuki couldn't save the one person who had tried to teach him that he couldn't win every fight, the one who taught him he didn't need to win every fight to prove his value. All Might embodied the concept that winning wasn't the only thing that meant you were strong.

Katsuki bit the inside of his lip, pressing with his teeth until it was painful and swollen.

He couldn't save the man he'd held in such high regard…it was HE who had ended All Might's time...he'd ended the greatest hero's career because of something as trivial as his own pride.

The jostle of his house keys brought him out of his dark reminiscent reflection, and he turned his focus back to the problem at hand.

A new image of a flurry of brown and auburn strands of hair, and big doe eyes leaking with tears flashed through his mind.

He and Uraraka needed to figure out what the hell this thing they were doing was. They needed to talk.

After entering through the door, and quietly sliding off his loafers, Katsuki hung his keys on the post by the coat rack and stepped foot further into the dwelling.

His eyes widened at the sight of long brunette waves facing him from the back, the person whom they belonged too gave no sign of notice at his presence.

Katsuki pulled his brows together, eyes flitting away from the woman in slight frustration, and silently he set to preparing dinner, surprised when a certain nonchalant individual stalked timidly towards him, cautiously observing as he chopped every vegetable perfectly even.

He found an ease in the boiling sound he heard emitting from the pot on the stove-top as he set to work seasoning the meat he'd picked up. He kneeded the reddened flesh with precision, rubbing in the amount of seasoning he deemed necessary for each slice by eyeball.

He caught hold of Ochako's curious gaze finally, and gestured for her to take over. She blushed, looking unsure as she tentatively took the knife out of Katsuki's hand, making sure not to brush any part of his skin with the sharp blade.

He leaned back against the counter while, elbows propping him up as he surmised her cooking skills. She didn't really seem to know what the fuck she was doing, but even so cut the meat as best as he could expect, and gingerly placed each piece inside the gurgling pot on the stove.

"Uraraka." Her name felt foreign in his mouth, his tongue contorted oddly as if it wasn't a phrase he'd ever uttered beforehand. But it wasn't completely unpleasant.

The girl in question turned to look at him, her eyes steeled with iron defenses he couldn't see through. Her walls were up. Walls that were high.

She was guarded through and through, clearly not trusting him even with all of the actions she'd taken leading up to this point.

"What is this?" he pointed to himself, the food, to her, and then back to himself. He realized that his gesture was somewhat cryptic, but Uraraka wasn't an idiot, she could figure this out.

She took her sweet time scrutinizing every inch of the hardwood flooring until she'd seemed to have built up the courage to answer his question.

"I don't...I don't really know Bakugou. But I'll leave if you want me to go. I have nowhere to go, but I won't force you to put up with me. Just say the word and I'll walk out that front door." Bakugou felt the tight line of his lips tug downwards at her words.

"If I'm being honest with you I don't know why I came here to begin with…" Uraraka continued, shrugging her shoulders in emphasis. The slight tilt of her head, and the false shroud of sincerity coating each of her words made him feel like he was an asshole.

He felt like he should have just stayed complacent in their odd little exchanges, if it had meant he wouldn't have to see that expression on her face.

He sighed deeply before speaking, breathing out.

"Look cheeks, I don't mind you bein' here I just gotta know what that means." He stated calmly, but refused to look at her. He wasn't sure how the odd twisting pang Uraraka seemed to conjure inside of his chest would handle anymore of her uncharacteristic reactions.

"U-Um I don't have any money…so I-"

"Money isn't an issue here." He assured before she could finish, noting the frantic tone in her voice but continuing to keep his gaze fixated on anything except Ochako.

"I don't want to keep taking your bed away from you, I don't deserve you letting me have it." She insisted quietly, the ending of her last sentence bothered him. Why the hell would she think she wasn't worth enough to have the right to a bed at night? Did she really think that little of herself?

After all his mistakes, he could never really atone for what he'd done. Between the two of them, he was definitely the one that deserved the sofa.

He gathered his thoughts and resolved himself, letting out an exasperated exhale of air. He looked over her once again.

She turned her chin downwards in an attempt to hide her hopeful expression from his piercing gaze. His harsh exterior visibly softened at the sight.

"Turns out, Kirishima is moving in with his soon-to-be bride so I'm out of a roommate. His spot is all yours if you want it." Katsuki said in a voice just above a whisper. He didn't fail to notice the glimmer of relief that shot through her as she relaxed involuntarily in the ease of joy, it made his heart flutter in a odd way.

"W-Well if it's open then yeah I'll take it." She sputtered, her mouth not capable of keeping up with her thoughts. So Uraraka was still a fast-talker when she got nervous?

"Alright enough with the happy-happy, now we need some rules." Uraraka returned to her typical blank look, awaiting his next demands.

"I don't do drunk people. I don't have time to babysit, so if you get drunk don't come crying to me to care of your ass Uraraka." Katsuki fired off sternly, recalling how much work it had been to make sure she hadn't kicked the bucket throughout the night she'd blacked out not too long ago.

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Second…" he started, flicking his crimson orbs to her, locking onto her eyes.

"…you need to get a job of some kind…eventually." Uraraka nodded again, shifting her feet slightly.

"Anything else?" she asked her voice monotone, no indication of the whirlwind of emotions he could see gathered in her brown depths.

"I feel like I need to know what happened to you angel-face, the mystery here is killing me." Bakugou had meant for his question to come off as light-hearted, but Uraraka looked unamused by his casual encroaching of the sensitive subject. Her stinging glare rivaled his own.

"Absolutely not. If you _need_ to know that I will leave right now." Her small fists were clenched tightly, the serious intent forced behind her words as she bore into him. Katsuki dropped it altogether, choosing to fight the battle another time.

"Fine." He agreed begrudingly, and to his surprise Ochako spoke next.

"I have a rule too." Katsuki stifled a chuckle.

"You got a rule? Lay it on me sweetheart." Uraraka pressed her full lips into a rigid line.

"I don't want you to call me angel-face...ever again." Katsuki raised an eyebrow, curiosity spiking within him, but nodded in agreement nonetheless.

"You got a reason for that?" he asked suspiciously, his interest overriding his sense of boundaries, and he noted her eye spasm in irritation.

"Listen Bakugou…" she started, and laid down the knife and meat occupying her hands.

"…there are some things that happened in the past…that I don't think I can…I can talk about ever. I think you probably have some skeletons in the closet too, so if I'm being truthful here, I'm a pain in the ass. I'm moody, a drunkard, and I don't care one bit about myself. So I'm offering this up to you, you want me to get out of your hair and this life you've built for yourself just point me in the direction of the exit and I won't hold it against you."

Katsuki studied her expression carefully, scanning over her knitted eyebrows and fallen strands of sunset-colored hair.

Her words didn't match the frightened look in her eye. He could see the fear lingering behind the cracks in the thick walls of cement she barracaded herself into.

Something inside of him, urged him to tear away at those bricks, hands and nails until there was nothing left except gravel and dust.

He wanted to see what was so scary underneath the rubble.

His life had been in a stalemate ever since All Might's death, and he was in need of a new purpose...perhaps this would be it.

But when he looked at Uraraka, something about the messed up pieces he could see of her laying on the ground, splayed out like shattered glass, made his body react before he could think.

There was no reason in this, in truth when she looked at him in a certain light, he completely forgot about the past, and he just moved.

Caring for her was like breathing in and out, he did it and didn't even stop to wonder why.

"Hand me the salt, Uraraka." He turned back to dinner, forcing his mind to dwell on other things, and swiftly snatched the shaker out of Uraraka's slender hand. He also failed to notice the small fleeting smile that crossed Ochako's features as a strange sense of ease settled over her.

In Bakugou's mind, something about her mysteriously chaotic and somewhat rough-edged presence made him feel like he had someone who understood how much shit a person could get into. Her very air made his shoulders raise as if the past that was constantly weighing him down each day and dragging his feet like shackles was being held up by another person's hands, carrying the load from behind him to relieve the burden on his head.

He wondered if having someone around, who was clearly as fucked up as you were, made him believe he wasn't without hope.

 _You can do this..._ His mind seemed to say when he caught sight of her.

Ever since he'd known the pink-cheeked, brown eyed, charismatic woman standing inches away from him, the one defining trait he'd seen in her core was strength.

He admittedly, found her boldness stupidly attractive.

Even though she'd been glued to the curly-haired nerd's hip since they'd started high school all those years ago, he never saw her give in when she believed in something.

He didn't fully understand why he felt that surge of hope ache in his chest with her around. He wasn't sure he ever would. But somehow he wondered if by seeing her fight against the demons holding her down, he would find the courage to eventually face his own.

He wanted to make that desire become reality.

Maybe that feeling was what had convinced him to hold that door out to her in the first place, in order to offer himself as a lifeline. A body and hands to pull her out of that deep and dark abyss she'd fallen into.

He wouldn't let her stay there alone.

If with his meager will, he could save her from that crippling despair she was captured inside, maybe he too, could find a way to save himself.

He'd always thought she'd seemed like an angel, maybe this was why.

* * *

 **A/N: Today in update 3 we have seen a very introspective Bakugou! **

**What's this about All Might? Who died? Guess you'll have to find out. I am loving writing this story, it's angsty and different than how I usually write.**

 **I really appreciate the feedback you guys leave, hope this update was a good one!**


	4. He's Weird

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.**

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

 **WARNING: There is GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION AHEAD. Read with that in mind!**

* * *

Chapter 4: He's Weird

Living with Katsuki Bakugou was nothing like Uraraka had ever anticipated. It wasn't that she really had any expectations for the arrangement anyway.

She had at least expected him to be somewhat obnoxious, maybe always screaming, declaring war on people, breaking furniture, things of that nature.

However, he was surprisingly boring.

It was utterly disappointing.

Bakugou was usually up a lot earlier than she was, he cooked breakfast, left some for her, and then he didn't turn up again for another several hours, and when he got home he was sweaty and dirtied with grime and smudges of some kind of soot, he usually always took a long shower, then, at long last, he ate with her.

Then sometimes they would exchange a few small words without any real meaning behind them and then he would disappear into his room for the night. Even going down to the way he dressed himself each day was the same.

He really only veered towards dark colors, the same typical baggy pants and tight top vibe. He had so many black t-shirts he might as well have had a uniform.

She also thought that he was strangely solitary.

She had known him since high school and his personality was…well…unique and very abrasive. So 'abrasive' he often resorted to physical violence when expressing his emotions.

So, this quiet and collected version compared to the Bakugou she remembered kind of freaked her out. Was he always this calm? It kind of felt like she was peeping into a part of his secret life that was private.

Not to mention, recently, alcohol withdrawals were a bitch.

She hadn't realized just how dependent she'd become over the last few years of her pitiful existence on the numbing effects of alcohol to keep her sane. She had relied on its properties to wipe her mind clean enough that she could sleep through the night and forget all the other shit clouding her head.

Nightmares never occurred when she was black-out drunk, that was ninety percent of the reason why she even drank to begin with. But seriously withdrawals were really something else. She didn't know they were going to make her this sick.

As boring as Katsuki was in her opinion, he was oddly attentive when she consistently broke his rule about 'needing a babysitter'. It wasn't like she asked him for his help but he always seemed to be perceptive of when she was incapable of doing something simple like getting ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet.

She didn't like how she didn't mind his nagging.

It was...kind of nice...having someone worry about her...

It made her feel kind of spoiled.

This development had only further supported her theory that Bakugou must've hit his head really hard one day while he was fighting fires, and his personality had been switched with some random good Samaritan's.

Whatever the reason, she had regrettably been spending the better half of a week, since the two of them had come to an agreement about her living there, throwing up every possible scrap of food in her system. Her body took turns alternating between shivering and sweating as the toxins left her system from years of buildup while she lied in bed trembling.

Her head pounded so hard that at times she had begged for Bakugou to buy her anything with alcohol, even cough syrup. She was practically kissing his feet so he would just maybe give in. But he never did supply her. He was still a stubborn ass that hadn't changed.

She inevitably always woke up finding pain killers and a bottle of water by her bedside, which was also always unexpected.

But now she was finally coming around to reality once again. She could think clearer than she had in a long time. And oddly she had yet to have another nightmare so far. She didn't know how long that would last, but she was grateful for the time being.

A yawn escaped Uraraka's tired lips as she raised herself up and let the sheets fall around her slender form. She could feel the heat of the sun streaking in through the windows and beaming onto her skin in stripes of light. She groaned and shuffled out of the bed, yanking on the same pair of Bakugou's sweatpants that she'd not so graciously demanded from him.

She caught sight of the time as she rubbed her eyes, it was already eight in the morning so Bakugou should have been gone by now.

Right on schedule. She thought to herself as she headed towards the kitchen to see what kind of tasty concoction, he'd left for her today. She was honestly somewhat excited since she might not just hurl it into the toilet like the previous day's breakfast.

Upon entering the expanse to the kitchen, she paused, feet planted in shock when she saw a head of tussled blonde hair and a muscled arm flipping, what looked like, pancakes on the stove.

"Wha…" she mumbled. Still not fully awake, and still half-convinced she hadn't ever woken up to begin with.

The head of blonde hair turned to the side and blinked back at her dumbfounded expression. Nope, it was Bakugou, that was for sure. She knew that half-assed 'what-the-fuck-are-you-staring-at' scowl anywhere.

"Morning." He grumbled tersely and turned back towards his cooking.

She rubbed her eyes once again and pinched herself for good measure, but low and behold she was fully conscious and this was no dream.

"I thought you had work? You're usually gone by this time." She stated as she took a seat on the couch and laid her ruffled head lazily on the edge of it's back so she could face Bakugou.

"Yeah no shit, except I asked for the day off." He shot back, sliding off two perfectly cooked pancakes onto plates, and reaching to turn the stove off.

Damn if he wasn't a good chef, there was a sickly-sweet smell wafting up from the stove and invading her to the very core of her senses. She wanted to snatch the food away right this second and stuff a handful of it into her mouth. It made her somewhat jealous that Katsuki was so good at this kind of thing, she was a lost cause when it came to food.

Usually her cooking ended in a fire or a burnt, and charred crisp.

"Why?" she pried further, not particularly concerned either way, but this was something new in her boring day.

"Well as much as it just fills my stomach with fucking butterflies that a chick is wearing my clothes…" he began hoarsely, and moved to sit beside her, pushing a plate of the steaming breakfast into her lap.

"…we need to get your shit out of that place and you don't have a car." Ochako narrowed her hazel eyes, somewhat embarrassed and confused as to why he continued to help her despite her being an eternal fuck-up with a nasty attitude. She wasn't that nice to him. And she certainly wasn't 'care-free' as her name implied.

"Bakugou you don't need to do that." She said quietly poking at the food in her lap. It made her feel bad that he was freely doing nice things for her. She wasn't asking him too. Why did he care anyway? Did he want something from her?

"Oi don't make that face, this is just what's convenient for me. I don't wanna keep doing laundry at twice the amount I have been since you came here. Plus, I'm sure you don't want to keep waking up to all of Kirishima's 'manly' posters and junk every day. So just accept that this is what we're doing today, got it?" Uraraka took note that he wasn't making eye contact with her, he was staring straight down at his meal and purposely avoiding her insightful gaze. She sighed and felt a small smile tug at her lips.

He was so obvious.

Bakugou was someone who a lot of people couldn't really understand, but he'd always been like an open book when it came to the two of them communicating.

It was all about reading between the lines of what he was saying and ignoring the harsh tone he put behind the words he chose. He'd always tried to hide the fact that he was a considerate friend. He really did a lot for those he cared about.

Uraraka honestly had just never expected him to treat her in that way. She'd always thought that privilege was strictly reserved for Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero.

But for whatever reason he'd decided to choose her as well?

No, surely this was all a ploy to get something from her.

What did he want? She had no money, no friends, no job. All she had was the skin on her back and if he wanted that…well…it didn't really matter anymore she was soiled goods.

If he wanted the broken trash of what was left inside of her and to take away from her he could have it. It wasn't worth a damn.

Stupid boy, she didn't need his kindness or pity, whichever of the two emotions that was influencing him. She wasn't returning any of it. She was too far gone.

"Fine." She hissed spitefully.

* * *

"Uh I hate to point this out Bakugou but that's not a car." Uraraka stifled a giggle as she took in the annoyance flaring prominently in the vein on Bakugou's forehead.

"Uraraka just get on damnit!" he growled shoving a pink helmet in her direction, his eyes comically angry.

Ochako took the helmet from him and looked over the motorcycle curiously. It had a circular headlight in the front and yellow paint on most of the body that was exposed. She should have expected that this would be Bakugou's first choice of vehicle. Afterall the vibe he was always trying to put out was 'I'm a badass'.

Katsuki revved the throttle on the machine impatiently. She slid the helmet over her head and hesitantly moved closer to climb on.

"Oi, hold it." She heard him halt her, his hand extending outwards to prevent her from advancing further.

She glared at him confused, eyebrow raised, until she noticed he was removing his dark leather jacket. She felt the smooth material graze across the backs of her fingers.

"Wear it, I forgot that other assholes aren't used to the wind pressure." He explained briefly, gesturing for her to take the jacket once again. She smirked deviously and cocked a hip out to the side. A sly smirk tugging at her lips.

"I thought you were sick of me wearing your shit." She snickered at the unamused roll of Bakugou's amber orbs.

"Shut it." He spat. Relenting, she appeased the fiery blonde by sliding the blackened leather over her shoulders and hopping onto the back of their ride. This errand was beneficial for her anyways.

"Angel…Round-face you gotta hold on tight." Ochako's body stiffened at his initial mistake, and then stayed tense as what Bakugou said sank in. She clenched her fingers into small balled-up fists, and raised her arms upwards slowly. She wasn't going to let him see how nervous she was getting.

 _Uraraka you're being ridiculous!_ She chastised herself, and gingerly gripped the material of Bakugou's shirt.

She hadn't been this close to a man in years and it terrified her.

Images of raking hands and uncomfortable intrusions invaded her mind.

"The hell kind of pansy ass hold is that?" he taunted unknowingly, revving the throttle once again.

She closed her eyes to try and shut out the apprehension she felt surfacing in her chest.

How could she explain to somebody, that hadn't been violated in the ways she had, how uncomfortable physical contact made her?

How was she supposed to ever tell someone how ashamed she was of the things she had been forced to do?

This was a hurdle she hadn't really had to combat just yet. But the thought of having to explain why she felt so unsettled to Bakugou, verses the act of just wrapping her arms around his sturdy form made the choice easier.

She rested her cheek against his firm, toned back, and pressed herself close against him, gripping tighter and screwing her brown eyes completely shut.

This wasn't what she had prepared for this morning.

 _Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She kept repeating those words as the chill of the wind snaked across her skin and made every hair stand on end. Minutes passed by and she could only concentrate on not remembering the faces trickling across the backs of her eyelids from the deepest and darkest corners of her memory.

 _I'm in control. This is still in my hands._

She was so consumed in forgetting the uneasy feelings bubbling inside of her that she failed to notice that she and Katsuki's ride had come to a slow stop.

* * *

"Uraraka." Bakugou's gentle call did not reach her ears. He switched off the key to the bike and heard the engine settle into silence. Then, he raised a hand to rest on top of hers.

"Uraraka, you're shaking." His call was more insistent this time and Uraraka released her vice-like hold on him, and jolted away from his backside, sucking in a shaky breath.

Katsuki stayed put not moving to get off or trying to look back at her expression. He wondered once again what had happened in her past that had affected her so much that she couldn't hardly touch him without nearly having a panic attack.

Was he really that scary?

Maybe he was expecting too much since he didn't know her entire story, he thought pensively.

* * *

"W-What're you doing, idiot? This isn't my place." She spat out, embarrassed by her reaction as she scrambled off of the motorcycle and onto the pavement trying to regain her usual hard-ass composure.

She watched carefully as Bakugou climbed off and removed his own helmet, letting it rest over the handle of his bike, and then pocketed the keys.

She could see an unreadable light in his crimson gaze as he looked her over silently. When he'd finished his inspection, he sighed. She felt a pang of annoyance flood into her veins.

What the hell was he looking at?

"You said it yourself cheeks, I don't have a car, so Kirishima's letting me borrow his truck for the day." Bakugou looked frustrated as he stalked towards the apartment complex they had parked beside. She was unaware that Bakugou was currently brooding over his decision to take her with him to come and pick up the truck. He was angry at himself that he hadn't thought the fact through that she might not love being on the back of motorcycle like he did.

The beat of the wind helped to clear his head but he hadn't even considered what would be going through hers.

Uraraka stayed put and let him go on alone, not loving the idea of talking to Kirishima or whoever Kirishima was living with. She needed a minute to breath and chill the frustration boiling beneath the surface of her fair skin.

It wasn't long before she saw the blonde man return, his loafers hitting the pavement with a soft and steady thumping sound.

Seriously, did his wardrobe ever change?

She saw Katsuki flick his head in the direction he was headed towards, Uraraka followed and secretly appreciated the aged vintage design of Kirishima's pick-up truck.

It was old, that much was obvious by the body and the dents carved through the paint. She silently climbed into the passenger seat and thought it was strange that the front-seat of the truck was all one seat across without any gaps of separation. She wished there had been a little more room between her and the hot-head sitting not even a foot away from her. She hadn't settled completely from the, for her, major step she had taken in terms of proximity to others.

Bakugou wasn't so bad for her first time trying. He smelled kind of sweet? Which she thought was odd, but who was she to judge? She didn't smell like much of anything but booze these days anyway.

Their trip towards the address Ochako had reluctantly supplied Katsuki with, was a bit tense to put it flatly. Bakugou still seemed pretty ticked off, at what, she had no clue. Ochako wondered if he would kick her out because of all the trouble he realized it was to keep her around. Maybe he was upset for taking time out of his day off to coddle her.

That was fine if he gave her the boot, she tried to convince herself even though her heart felt strangely heavy at the consideration of leaving the cozy little flat she been staying in. She hadn't been there very long but it was better conditions than she'd had in quite some time. The door locked, and there wasn't any incessant clattering and clanking outside all night long.

"We're here." Bakugou's gruff tone pulled her out of her somewhat sullen and reminiscent thoughts, and she looked up to take in the familiar sight displayed out before them.

She didn't really care what Bakugou thought but she knew she lived in a dumpy place. Her apartment was no clean, girly palace either.

As he followed her up the stairs to the door that was still tacked with an eviction notice, she paused when her hand touched the cold steel metal of the handle.

"Bakugou…" she said slowly, her head facing forwards, her face out of his view. A sudden hesitance plaguing her as her fingers clenched tighter on the door.

"What?" he responded, intrigued by her casual demeanor until he caught a glimpse of the deadened look in Ochako's bright eyes. He saw that look a lot recently. It was like an indestructible wall was covering the swirling chocolate river that usually danced in her orbs.

"Let's get this over with quick…okay?" she said in a soft voice that almost sounded ashamed. He wanted to know what was so scary on the other side of this door.

"You got it bubble-cheeks." He answered, using sarcasm to hide his curiosity.

When Uraraka finally swung the door open, she took in the depressing scene of her old apartment with a downcast glance. She and Bakugou entered slowly, not bothering to slide off their shoes at the footstep.

She strode past the wooden picture frames filled with faces. There were old photos of her and Deku, as well as of her mother and father. She purposely looked past all of the scattered and cracked beer bottles and tipped-over wine glasses littering her floor and counter-tops.

She headed for the bedroom, not daring to look back at what she assumed would be a look filled with vulgar disgust on Bakugou's face.

Rifling through her messy closet she eventually procured a bag and then began stuffing every scrap of clothing she owned into it. She then set to work on contemplating what else in this shitty place she wanted to take out, scanning over discarded items strewn about.

Meanwhile, Bakugou was exploring the rest of the remaining ruins of Ochako's life previous to him, and their fateful encounter a few weeks ago.

 _She had lived in a place like this? A girl like her?_

He scrutinized some family photos noting how much Ochako looked like who he assumed was her old lady. They both had the same auburn color of hair and striking brown eyes with the tell-tale pinked cheeks he liked to point out on her appearance most days.

Her old man seemed brawny and stout. He looked pretty plain, save for the goofy smile. He didn't note a lot of resemblance between him with Ochako.

Uraraka never talked about her family. He had only heard her discuss it once with Deku and the four-eyed freak, and from what he could remember of that conversation, her folks were dirt poor. _No wonder_ , he thought, she'd had nothing to fall back on when her life went to shit.

His eyes scanned over the rest of the area surrounding him. His jaw clenched when he noticed a hand gun with bullet shells scattered around the weapon.

He thought about asking the air-headed space cadet why the hell she even had a gun to begin with, but went against it. She'd been involved in police work in a past life right?

He wasn't sure what Uraraka was doing but he figured he'd grab what he thought looked important to expedite their time in the hovel.

"Uraraka! I'm just gonna shovel some of this shit into a bag unless you got something to say about it!" he yelled out, but shrugged when he heard no reply and bent down to snatch a worn backpack off of the dirty floor.

He recognized it as her backpack from high school, there was no doubt in his mind. He remembered staring after that damn sack when she was off flirting with the nerd and four-eyes.

Those three were always so damn easy-going. It used to piss him off. But now…

He placed the picture frames and other mementos he felt Uraraka might miss inside the bag and froze when he opened a drawer and found several hand-written letters sprawled over one another inside. He glanced over his shoulder and found no sign of the brunette and then ducked back down to scan over the contents of the pages. He had a heightened awareness that what he was doing was an invasion of something personal to her.

Some were addressed to people whose names he didn't know, some he recognized were in Deku's handwriting, and one or two from the few lines he picked up seemed to be from her father. He was just about to read that particular page when he heard footsteps approach.

"What are you doing?" Bakugou tensed, and looked behind him. Uraraka stood straight, her expression a jumbled mix of anger and fear. He cursed under his breath.

"You want these right?" he asked, playing off the fact that he was just about to read the contents of the letter, holding up a few of the envelopes in his hand. She walked towards him and quickly snatched the letters out of his hand, glaring up at him.

"Get out." She said lowly, the depths of her chestnut eyes swimming in regret and sorrow.

He found himself wanting to stay by her side and understand what was in those letters that made her expression look like a crumpled piece of paper. He wanted to know if the darkness lurking around her was as black as the kind running inside his own blood. Could he get through to her?

"Get out Bakugou… _please_ …" the shake of her voice made him angry. He didn't understand why someone would have hurt her. Ochako was like the sky. Her presence was like breezing air and her personality like light that spread over everyone endlessly.

He wanted to find whoever had stolen the sun out of her life, and left her trembling in the dark, clutching her knees to her chest and attacking anyone who came too close.

Lucky for her, he was no quitter either. He'd find a way to get over this wall she'd built.

"I'll wait outside." He relented, gritting his teeth as he turned away from her.

* * *

When Ochako finally heard the door slam shut she felt tears spring to her eyes and her skin flushed hot with abhorrence to the piece of paper in her hands. She gripped the letter Bakugou had been holding and forced herself to look down and read over the words printed in black ink.

 _My Sweet Ochako,_

 _I have failed you. My little girl, I am so sorry that I couldn't protect you from the evil in the hearts of men. I should have warned you more, I should have pushed you towards a different career. Maybe then I could have made a difference in what happened to you Ochako. None of what happened is your fault. It's mine. It's all mine. Blame me. I couldn't do the one thing that as your father I should have been able to do, you have always tried to take care of me when I should have done the same for my baby girl. Ochako forgive me. I can't bear this grief. I can't do this anymore…my head is filled constantly with how much I messed up. Please take care of your mother for me I can't keep living this way…_

Uraraka couldn't make out the remaining words inscribed below her, her vision was clouded with salt-laced water.

A tear drop landed on the frantically scribbled paragraph. When it did a sob choked throughout Uraraka's body as she dropped down to her knees clutching her father's last words to her firmly against her heaving chest.

"Daddy why?..." she cried out in pain, as the horror of what her own trauma had driven her father towards surged through her body. The grief compiling as memories surfaced.

She remembered coming home that day before her mom had gotten off of work. She remembered how still her father's body was as it stiffly swayed from side to side, and the bursted blood vessels in his discolored cheeks that spread upwards to his light glazed eyes, frozen open without a shred of life inside the deadened orbs.

He didn't look at all like the courageous man who had raised her.

She remembered, while trying to pull his body down how the coldness in his skin that was always so warm as she made contact with his decaying flesh caught her off guard.

The memories hurt her so much that Ochako didn't think she could bear the pain they induced. Why had she read this letter again, why did she have to be the reason that everyone in her life left her completely and utterly alone?

Why hadn't she been able to protect herself from the attack?

Hands raking over her virgin flesh, gripping and tearing at her body surfaced to the forefront of her mind as she shook. The feeling of cloth binding her wrists above her head and the damp dark room she'd been isolated in.

The blows she'd received to the face and back, how much it made her body ache.

Sounds of grunts and curses filled her ears and made her want to scream.

Why hadn't her Daddy stayed with her? He was supposed to be the one who held her when she cried and fought off all the monsters in the night time.

But now he was gone, and in the space he left the vultures of her past swooped in to tear her to shreds.

Ochako couldn't see anything as she continued to cry because of the cascade of tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

The weight of her Dad's absence drilled into her being like a hole. She felt empty, and afraid, and the pain throbbed through her stomach and down her spine. The guilt was suffocating her, and as much as she gasped for air, she couldn't take in enough to make her heart stop thrashing wildly, it was as if it was a rat in a cage trying to escape. It was all too much.

This was her fault. If she hadn't been a detective, she wouldn't have been in that drug bust. If she'd never been in that drug bust, she wouldn't have had all of her purity ripped away alongside her choice and say in what happened to her body. She hadn't even been capable of lifting a finger against the souls who dared to take her.

No one ever understood what it meant to have your freedom until it was taken away from you.

She could still, years later, feel the places and the wounds on her body that those men had left behind. She had scars to prove the things they had done to her. She could hear their resounding laughs echoing in her mind as the vision of her Dad inside a velvet lined casket surfaced to the forefront of her brain until it was all she could see.

She didn't even know she was screaming until she felt a pair of strong muscled arms wrap around her body from behind. It startled her in the catastrophic state of mind she was seeing.

"Stop! Let me go!" she fought off her attacker with everything she had, kicking and flailing to get loose. Nails out. Trying to rewrite the history of the past.

"Don't touch me! Don't do this!" she cried pathetically as she felt her body being turned around, and flashbacks ran across her lids of being pinned against a dirt floor with her legs pulled apart, spread wide for the laughing demons waiting their turn to use her, one by one, watching on in pure delight as she was defiled in so many ways that left her with an aching pain she'd never known beforehand.

 _Angel_.

That name was cooing in her ears. The sickening amusement trilling in every syllable of the dark-eyed man's voice as she continued to fight him.

It was fitting that he had called her that as he raped her violently, her face in the dirt. She had been so pure before, everyone knew she was a good girl. It only made since that the devils around her wanted to destroy that innocence.

"Ochako!" she felt her nails rip across flesh as her name was called out loudly. She stopped her thrashing as a familiar face came into focus. Spiky blonde hair and eyes as red as blood were opened wide and staring straight at her. She felt Bakugou's hands clasped tightly around her wrists, pinning them to each side of her. He looked bewildered with concern.

"B-Bakugou…" she whimpered weakly, as she remembered where she was and what she'd been doing. She felt a warm liquid spread onto her collarbone and looked away from Katsuki's face to notice the scratch-like rips in his clothing across his left side just under his shoulder. There were scarlet droplets plipping onto her, escaping the wound she'd marked onto him. Guilt etched across her features.

"Did I…Did I do that?" she realized as her momentary reality check wavered. The overwhelming grief began to overcome her once again as tears flooded around her glistening lashes and before she could let out as much as a quivering breath she was pulled against Bakugou's chest.

She felt his arms wrapped around her shoulders and heard a gentle, deep voice whisper softly in her ear as calloused hands gripped unto her tightly.

"It's okay, it doesn't hurt. It's me, It's just me Uraraka. You're safe now. There is nobody else here, it's just me." He softness in his rough voice made her heart break. Did Katsuki see how much of a failure she was? Could he understand how worthless she was?

Why was he holding her so gently and trying to ease her suffering with sweet words?

His embrace restrained her from moving around which began to have a calming effect over her body. The words he spoke seeped deeply into her frantic thoughts and decimated the tension. And as the minutes passed by she began to feel oddly sleepy in Bakugou's arms.

He was warm, and he was right there even though her Daddy wasn't. Those men weren't anywhere near her, Bakugou said so.

"I'm not going to hurt you." That's right, she thought gratefully. He wasn't going to rape her. He wasn't one of those demons with dark eyes, right? This was just Bakugou, he was just her roommate. A boy she'd known since she was a teenager.

Her hand brushed against the sticky residue of drying blood.

But she'd still found a way to hurt him just like everyone in her life. She thought heavily.

Would he leave her now too?

"I'm sorry…" she breathed against his neck, her lips trembling.

"I'm sorry for all of the trouble I've caused…"

* * *

 **A/N:** **Lots of things today! Yes, sadly Ochako's dad did commit suicide and I felt that it was a necessary write-in for this fic. You all have learned a hair more about her tumultuous past and I hope you continue to want to find out more! Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	5. Beneath The Surface

**Disclaimer : I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.**

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

Chapter 5: Beneath The Surface

Ochako felt her mind coming down from some kind of high. Not a high that was euphoric and pleasing, more like the racing feeling that she associated with a jump scare scene in a horror movie. It was like her whole body was tired after thrashing around and crying out loud like a mad woman. It was pathetic.

But even more so she felt incredibly embarrassed. She tried to move, but was restrained by thick muscular arms that had been cultivated through years of intensive training, intended for lifting equipment that saved peoples lives from disaster. Those warm arms were still wrapped tightly around her shoulders and her face was still angled into Bakugou's chest. She had never noticed before how distinct the scent Bakugou exuded was. It smelled like smoke and ash but also oddly sweet, like cinnamon, or that red gum her father used to chew that burned her tongue from the local gas station. So damn specific, she thought as she loosened her grip on Bakugou's backside, feeling like the proximity they were sharing was too intimate.

"B-Bakugou let go…" Ochako whispered fervently, swaying slightly as he did what she'd asked without hesitation.

He studied her face with an intensity that made the redness in her cheeks glow even brighter. What the fuck was he staring at? Was he making fun of her? She closed her eyes and turned her head away, her mental walls starting to build back up as each moment passed in silence between them.

"Can you walk?" it made her feel ashamed when the gentleness in his tone reached her ears. Why was he being...so…like this? She didn't want to rely on him. She didn't want to rely on anyone, they would just take something from her in the end.

"Yeah I can fucking walk you idiot." She spat, regretting the harshness in her words the second they left, feeling an odd pang in her gut to be close to the blonde again as he stood upright. As if he could read her mind, she noticed a rugged, calloused hand appear in front of her nose and begrudgingly, but secretly grateful, took it.

He pulled her up like she was nothing, and she nearly collided with his chin as she found her footing. She pulled her hand away from his grasp and shoved him away, after a moment she wordlessly followed him as he exited the apartment, she kept her eyes low on the ground, to frustrated to look up.

She had never come apart like that before in front of anyone except her parents and Deku, but she had never…she looked to her hands, noticing the brownish dried blood residing under her fingernails.

She had never attacked someone like that before.

Maybe she had officially gone insane, clinically, utterly, and totally off her rocker.

"Oi." Her head tilted up and she still avoided his omniscient gaze, biting her lip to hide the way she felt like crying…again. She didn't want him to see the way her lip trembled when she was about to sob.

She didn't want to feel anything.

Katsuki opened the door to the truck and waited as she climbed in on shaky legs, still feeling like her body wasn't totally under her own conscious control.

Before he shut the door she noticed his form standing in the entryway to the vehicle and fixed her brown orbs on the middle of his chest instead of his face, refusing to meet his stare. She wouldn't give him any of what he wanted, he had already seen too much.

"I'll be right back, sit tight cheeks." She clenched her jaw when the door finally closed, and when she felt like he was a safe enough distance away she let the tears dribble down her swollen lids and quietly shook as she sniffled, sick to death of how pathetic she felt in this moment. She was tired of feeling like her world was filled with nothing but the color gray and she desperately wanted any force capable, to steal her away. She wanted this suffering to stop. She was tired of being alone but being unable to let anyone close enough to see just how meek she was beneath the defenses she'd spent years building to cover herself.

Her parents ran a construction company, but if they'd taken one split second to see the fortress of her heart, they'd beg her to take the reins.

She noticed Bakugou's lean form nearing the car once again, and tried to suppress the noises that were betraying her will to appear sane. She snickered at herself at thought, as if she hadn't just had a full-blown panic attack. Or like she hadn't just clawed a hefty amount of flesh and blood out of her roommate's chest. Of course he was going to be able to tell the minute he jumped in the ride that she had been crying.

She heard a rustling coming from the back and saw that Bakugou was loading the trunk of the car with bag of her belongings. After about 20 minutes of him moving back and forth he finally joined her in the front seat of Kirishima's old-timey truck and stuck the key in the ignition as it sputtered to life.

When they got onto the open road, she glanced again at Bakugou, making sure not to stare him in the eye, and quickly looked away. The air between them felt heavy, and thick with tension.

"C'mere." She winced at his gruff command and hesitantly shuffled closer to him, leaving enough space so that their bodies weren't touching, she stiffened as Katsuki, kept one hand gripping the steering wheel, and let the other dive down next to him where she couldn't see. She felt a light weight flutter over her head and fall around her arms, she rubbed the material between her index finger and thumb and let her brown eyes open wide as she recognized the well-worn blanket swaddling her head.

It had been a gift from her mom, she'd hand-knitted the whole ensemble just for her.

"Th-thanks…" she whispered and pulling the covering around herself even more so, the exposure she felt in his wake, dimming down a bit as they continued to turn on the roads of the street.

She pressed her lips into a tight line as she contemplated how she would approach the chaotic event that had just occurred, but just as she had worked up the courage to speak the truck came to a halt.

She heard the distinct sound of a car door opening and closing and then the weight gathered at the rear of the vehicle slowly lessening as the old car creaked at the shift of gravity.

She tentatively peered from the shadow of her blanket to watch as Bakugou carried bag after bag into the flat without a word. Was he angry? Was that why he was being so quiet? Was he just waiting until he could pull behind closed doors to show her just how infuriated he was with her actions after he had let her live in his home rent-free?

She cursed, startled by the sound of her passenger side door being opened and felt her arms and legs go strangely limp in inexplicable fear when strong hands pulled her out of the car. She was carried like a bride until she could feel by the change in the atmosphere, indicating that they were inside the flat and out of the cold wind of the autumn season. She let her eyes, which had been screwed tightly shut, open slowly and her vision focused on Katsuki's expression. He didn't look particularly pissed or upset…just calm. Eerily calm.

It was unnerving.

She shut her eyes again anticipating a strike when her butt bounced onto the mattress of her room. After a few seconds she opened them again, lashes fluttering as she stared into Bakugou's scarlet orbs with confusion, but she was once again met with an odd captivation of his steady gaze. He looked like he wasn't in the least bit rattled by her bizarre antics in the last hour.

Or maybe he was just really good at hiding things.

"Uraraka." He said forwardly almost desperately, and she continued to look into his seemingly endless eyes waiting for him to continue with what he needed to say.

"You're not gonna do anything stupid if I go return that shit-heads truck, are you?" his question perturbed her and she searched his red depths as if they would hold the answer to her disturbance.

"N…no…" she trailed. Brows still knitted together as if she was in some kind of pain she couldn't describe. A pain buried so deep that no kind of surgery or force could pull it out. Bakugou looked unconvinced.

She observed as the blonde sighed and ran a hand through his spiky locks in a nervous way. She heard the keys jingling out of his pocket and then a soft thud about an inch away from her knee. She followed the noise to the source and realized it was his cellphone.

"Hey…don't make me regret this okay? Just call Kirishima if you feel like-"

"Stupid." She croaked, offering a half-cocked attempt at a smile as he exhaled loudly in a way that could be interpreted as a chuckle. She felt his weight leave the edge of the bed and then a few moments later heard the ricketing of the front door close.

Weird…she thought as her heart drummed violently in her chest.

After a few moments of sitting aimlessly, Uraraka moved to stand on her own as her annoyance with herself grew and she tugged at the brown strands attached to her head to the point of inflicting pain. When she pulled her hands away, she saw several flittering auburn pieces glinting back at her, stuck in between the crevices between her fingers. She shook them off and frantically stripped herself naked and found the bathroom mirror.

She looked over her body and felt nothing but disgust as her harsh eyes trailed over various scars that marred her pale flesh. She looked over her shoulder at a particularly nasty one, that ran jagged from the tip of her shoulder all the way to the dimple just above her ass.

Now, she thought, she'd marked Bakugou with something just as unsightly.

"P-Pathetic…" she mumbled as she turned the shower head all the way until the water was steaming from behind the curtain, she wanted it to burn. She wanted the ugly marks to be singed off of her. She wanted…she wanted to feel like she was anything but this ache of self-loathing and emptiness.

Was there anything in this life that could heal the void ripped into her heart?

Was there anything left to really wait for?

* * *

Bakugou pushed the gas pedal on Kirishima's truck until the entire damn body quaked from the speed. He flew down the interstate, hoping that no cops would dare to pull him over.

He wanted to get back as soon as he fucking could. He had a sinking feeling that Uraraka was going to try and hurt herself if he wasn't there.

He couldn't explain it, but he knew she was in trouble. Call it intuition, but he could see in the storms she tried to hide from him, just how close she was to giving into its call.

Hell, he'd been damn close to listening once or twice in his life before too.

That damn rage inside a person that begged them to make it end. That convinced them they weren't worth a damn.

No matter what he thought of himself, he wasn't going to let Uraraka give up that easy.

He'd given it a lot of thought since she'd moved in, but he could still see the flickers of that spark he'd always been drawn to, like a match in the darkness, in her darting brown eyes.

It wasn't as bright but it was iron and steel. It was a loaded gun, ready to spring, to fight.

That was his favorite part, everything with her was a challenge.

But not every challenge with her, was something he knew how to combat, especially when it came to trauma riddled with assault, rape, and suicide. And those events were just what he could deduce with clues she gave off.

He was especially on edge to leave her on her own, in this moment, so soon after having an episode of what he assumed was PTSD, because of the scars on her wrists.

Uraraka clearly had a history of cutting, and his place was riddled with weapons.

That was what victims of a tragic event seemed to do. They self-imploded when they were removed from a chaotic situation. All of the men in his squad had been lectured when it came to dealing with victims of a fire.

The psychologist chick who had been speaking about procedures following containment of a fire had said something along the lines of 'when you remove the chaos of a disaster from a victim in such a quick transition time, they tend to find a way to create that chaos again in another outlet until their body adjusts to reality'. That line had always stuck with Katsuki. He heard it replay each time when he pulled people out of the flames and into the sterile environment of an ambulance a safe distance away from harm.

He'd seen firsthand how some victims, typically the women, completely freaked. They would scratch themselves bloody, try to run back into the inferno, or even just sit there and scream at their family until they'd gotten the adrenaline out of their system.

It didn't happen every time, but damn was he glad he'd been warned.

He, just like any other newbie who worked in public safety, had to learn the knacks behind keeping a situation calm.

Even if you were scared shitless, you could never let the person you carried in your arms know that. They never needed to see that you had no idea what to do.

That dumb science bitch had also gone over several methods of containing a victim in a state of panic. That was where he had learned the most useful bit of information. He'd just happened to be able to put that knowledge to use today.

When someone was having a panic attack, or experiencing loss, you were supposed to wrap them tight enough so that they couldn't move, and hold them so that with time, their sympathetic nervous system would release, and they would calm down. Sometimes they even fell asleep on him if he held them long enough.

It kept them from hurting themselves and others…most times, he thought as he looked to the wound on his chest.

It had taken awhile to get over the embarrassment of 'hugging' strangers in the middle of a public outcry, but he found that it made operations run so much smoother if he could get whatever victim had gone fucking nuts under control.

But this time…with Ochako was different. He'd never seen that kind of fear completely control a person to the point of delusion. It was like she was having a nightmare and was awake but not conscious.

It was really surreal to watch her fight the air, as if she was reliving something that had occurred in her tumultuous past.

Bakugou rose his fingers to brush against the scratches she'd etched into the surface of his skin. He winced at the tenderness of the area and pushed his foot on the pedal even harder. It stung like a bitch.

When he finally made it to Kirishima's house he banged on the door of his friend's apartment until the red-head opened up.

"Dude! What the hell?" Bakugou shoved the keys into Kirishima's chest and turned to leave.

"Thanks fucktard." He shouted over his shoulder. Kirishima took one glance at the slight flash of anxiety in Bakugou's features and knew that he need not try and stop the blonde from leaving. Whatever was eating at him was serious. Kirishima couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope at the sight as well.

Bakugou was feeling…something. He hadn't seen his friend so lively in such a long time, he thought he'd lost him.

"Yeah…" he called back.

Katsuki grinned as his bike revved awake and relished in the feeling of the wind zipping through his clothes as he speeded back to the flat, hoping that he wouldn't have to do any damage control other than what he intended already to do when he got there.

He was really fucking curious about just what she had been seeing when he'd practically busted the door down to her shitty rat-hole of an apartment at the sound of her screams, screams that had split through the very air he breathed.

He'd never heard a sound that made his blood chill colder quite like her cries of pain. Even now, as he sat on his motorcycle, one of the places he felt the most in control on the earth, his heart was drumming a beat so hard and fast it made him sick.

Seeing her like _that_. Seeing Uraraka, Ochako crying like _that_. It just wasn't okay with him.

It made him angry, sad, and uncertain all at the same time.

Every moment with her made his head swim, and he didn't know if he was being selfish by wanting to feel those things, or if he was just a moron who believed he could help her.

If she was anything like him, she didn't want to live with that pain alone.

Even if he could never bring back the girl he'd had a crush on high school, he was fine with that. He just wanted to be with someone who could understand how deep shit could run in a person.

He shook his head, and focused back on the yellow and white lines of the road. He was turning into a fucking woman with all these feelings.

' _Don't touch me! Don't do this!'_

His knuckles blared white as he clenched the throttle of his ride in fury.

He wanted to tear apart whoever or whatever had made her tremble in his arms like she was going to fall to pieces if he let go. Every instinct in his body screamed to protect her. But he hadn't been there when whatever asshole had used her.

He had never fucking understood the guys in the world that got off on that kind of game. How the hell was that pleasurable to have your girl screaming and crying while shoving into her like she's a piece of meat?

"Tch."

It made his skin crawl and his fists itch to obliterate the piece of shit that had touched _her_ like that.

He would never let anyone do that to her again…never again.

* * *

Ochako was sitting by the windowsill of the balcony in the living room when she heard Bakugou trudge inside frantically. The little perch of the wall was quickly becoming her favorite spot in the whole house. She hugged her arms tightly around the leg propped up so that her chin could rest against her knee, and let the other dangle aimlessly off to the side.

She heard him drop the keys onto the kitchen counter and turn on the faucet of the kitchen sink as a droplet of water plopped onto her foot.

Her brown hair was tangled in a wet mess around her exasperated façade. Her eyes felt swollen and her mouth dry and hoarse. No matter how much she'd scrubbed she couldn't make the dirty feeling in her veins go away. Even when she'd rubbed herself raw, it didn't dissipate even slightly.

"Oi, what the hell did you do to yourself?" the edge in Katsuki's voice was so close to her, that it made her jump and hold up her arms in front of her body reflexively, like a shield. She locked onto Bakugou's frustrated scowl and tried to pull away from him with little success when he gripped her arms and tugged her towards the couch.

"Bakugou let go of me!" she whined, but didn't feel fear when he pulled her beside him. Her sensitive skin gliding across the leather surface of the sofa. She didn't know why it was that she didn't feel afraid of his presence in this moment, whether it was because of the fact that he'd already seen some of the worst of what she had to offer, or that she was too embarrassed by her tantrum to hide her unsightly self away from him anymore, or maybe she was just so out of it and her defenses had already been seen through so clearly that she didn't feel like holding them anymore. It was hard…after all, to block people out of what was really going on inside her heart each and every day. In any case she didn't fight when he pulled her arms towards his face and scanned over the reddish aggravated skin.

* * *

"Fuck, Uraraka." He seethed, but the bite in his tone was minimal as his rough fingers glided along her exposed flesh. He left nothing out of his inspection, even down to her toes.

"I just needed to shower…" she offered weakly, her tussled hair falling over her brow.

"Did you shower in a goddamn boiler round face?" he questioned, as she pulled her knees to her chest again to hide her face. Her body language screamed that she felt humiliated.

Sympathy chipped away at his frustration.

He sighed and let his temper simmer before saying anything else. Clearly this was a new one for him. He'd seen a lot of troubled people in his job, but never…never something quite this complicated.

Still, he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, but this felt like a war. Each battle against her demons had to be won in time, carefully, and strategically.

He felt shaking hand clutch the sleeve of his pants weakly. He looked to the fragile grasp and the up the arm it was attached to, then finally to the top of the brown catastrophe that was Uraraka's head.

"D-Don't go…please…" her timid voice sliced straight through him sharper than any blade. He was a little surprised at her actions but decided against teasing her for them. He moved to settle closer to her huddled form.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, feeling awkward. He had never been one good with words or crying girls, or just comforting in general.

For a long time, he got no reply from the woman. He was content with the fact that she would probably ignore his questions, hell he wouldn't know what to say if she had answered him. But just as he dismissed her…she answered.

"My dad killed himself…because of what happened to me…" the statement stood between them like a boulder, openly rearing its awful truth as it crashed into Bakugou.

Katsuki stayed frozen, at a loss of what to even say.

"The letter you were holding…that was his suicide note…" she continued. Her voice was barely audible, to the point that if he hadn't strained to hear he would've missed it.

He felt like such an asshole, as he put two and two together. If he hadn't been rifling through her shit like a nosy bastard, she probably wouldn't have lapsed into this…this timid being at his side.

"Everyone important to me leaves me…because of what happened…so…" he watched as she lifted her head and looked right at him, the all-consuming pain clearly visible in her large round eyes.

"…so…" The gorgeous brown coloring seemed almost transparent, as if he could reach out and feel her grief like it was a tangible object.

For the second time that day he witnessed tears of defeat streak down Ochako's ruddy cheeks and saw the tell-tale quiver of her bottom lip. The sight made his breath hitch in his throat as his gut twisted sharply.

"When are you…going to leave me, too?"

The question rattled in his head like a record stuck on a loop. The sight of her face beaming at him, contorted into so much agony, as she awaited his response. Her shivering body, frail and thin, showing she was afraid to be rejected once again by someone who had gotten just a little bit below the surface of her harsh exterior.

 _I'm not going anywhere you idiot_. He wanted to say.

But would she believe him if he told her that? Would any amount of words penetrate deep enough in her skull to make her stop looking at him like he was the only thing keeping her from leaving this world?

Was she ready to listen to anything he could come up with right now?

Unsure of what to do, he reacted in the only way he seemed to be able to. His hand slowly rose to cup her angelic face, and he slid his thumb under her lashes to stop the tears from tracking down her soft skin. And after a moment he did the same with his other hand, until he was just holding her, cradling her neck within his reach as she stared up at him with those big watery eyes of hers. Eyes that reflected everything inside chocolate colored depths.

They made him forget about who he was, and who she was. They made him forget his past, and the things that had happened.

It was as if they could nullify the pain that he had been suppressing all this time.

Every heavy burden bearing down on him was suddenly lighter than the air escaping his lips as he lost himself inside of her eyes.

He wanted to look into them forever.

* * *

 **A/N : It's finals week in college, but what am I doing? Writing fanfiction updates and procrastinating while I slowly die inside from stress. And that, dear friends is what has brought you this update today! I hope it's good one! Leave me a review with your thoughts!**


	6. Enough

Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.

* * *

She's No Angel

* * *

Chapter 6: Enough

In the days following the episode that Uraraka had undergone, Katsuki found himself at a loss of words.

He wasn't angry…not at her anyways.

But he was infuriated at the things he couldn't change. He didn't know how to explain that when she looked at him through those thick brown lashes of hers and made him, irritatingly, lose his focus. He wasn't sure how to tell her that it wasn't _her_ that had activated his radio silence quirk.

Kirishima used to rag on him about it when they were roomates. Saying he went days without speaking sometimes and it made him feel shitty. Of course he hadn't cared too much about it at the time, but this situation felt more delicate than others.

He felt the weight bear down on him not long after Uraraka had finally given into sleep that night that she'd cried too many times for him to be okay with.

He felt guilty for not having been around her sooner…for not having chased her back when they were just kids who hadn't been quite so fucked up by the world. He'd had that desire, he had the tenacity, so why had he been such a coward because of fucking Deku?

He still had the question running through his mind; could he have stopped those men from hurting her?

If he had been around, could he have protected her?

Even now, could he fix her?

He desperately wanted to heal whatever inside her had been crushed, to fix what was broken. He wanted to know all the things that tormented her and take them away. He wished he could pull that onto himself if it would keep her from ever looking at him like she had again.

He didn't know where to start or how to release the boiling rage he felt at her injustice. She didn't deserve the abuse she'd endured.

Uraraka was kind to a fault, she always had been. He…honestly found that comforting about her.

In the past, no matter how much of an asshole he had been to those around him, it never seemed to turn her away. She was strong, and that was what had sparked his interest in the first place. She could roll with his punches and emotional storms.

She was still strong, but someone had gotten so deep inside her they had twisted the good and drawn it to darkness. They had made her _afraid_.

That girl he'd once known was still sitting in the dark somewhere, confined by fear, and he couldn't find her.

That was really fucking annoying to him…shit, he'd never been good at emotional things like this…it was why he avoided them.

But it was Ochako. It was fucking _Ochako_.

He couldn't be so much of an asshole that he would leave her alone. Especially not after she had literally begged him to stay beside her.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling harshly on the blonde spikes as he pulled off his heavy gear.

He eyed the clock and noted it was already five and he had spent the whole day lost in his own head.

"Bakugou." Rolling his red eyes the blonde looked over his bare shoulder at the source that called his name.

"What do you want half n' half?" He chided, brows knitting together in annoyance.

"My name is Todoroki, and Aizawa wants to see you before you leave today. So try and cool your head if that's possible." The bi-colored boy said back robotically. His nonchalant composure was damn aggravating. He wanted to wipe the indifferent look off Todoroki's pretty-boy face.

He pulled a top over his head, and slammed his locker shut. He settled to bump the man with his shoulder as he stalked past him towards the chief's office.

He took in a deep breath before opening the door and sliding inside, making sure to hear the click of it shutting behind him before meeting his superior's gaze.

The cold gray of Aizawa's eyes met his, and he postured to seem unfazed by the sudden summoning.

"Bakugou." His chief stated.

"Aizawa." Katsuki returned, equally as flat.

The man pulled his black hair back into a messy updo and sighed heavily, looking down at a file on his desk, next to a hard-shelled red hat.

"I know this is none of my business, but I wanted to ask you how you're doing." Katsuki quirked a brow upwards, somewhat surprised by the words out of the man's mouth.

Why the fuck did Aizawa care?

"I'm fucking fine, old geezer. The hell does it matter?" he offered sarcastically, confused to the sudden intrusion.

"I figured you'd say something like that Bakugou, but I've known you for quite some time and I can tell you're distracted. I don't need someone with a clouded head in the field right now, so take some time to yourself and right the ship." Aizawa finished monotonously.

Bakugou felt a vein protrude in his neck and his crossed arms stiffen as he felt the tantrum rise in his throat.

"You asking me to take a damn vacation Aizawa?" he seethed through gritted teeth, eyes bloodshot as they remained trained on the older man's features.

"It's not a request, it's an order Bakugou. That is all." Bakugou shook slightly as he bit his tongue. He knew better than to argue with Aizawa, he didn't care enough for emotions to be swayed by his rage anyway.

It didn't make his demand any less easy to swallow.

"Bullshit." He spat and turned to leave the office before he hit something. How in the fuck was he supposed to go back home now? How was he supposed to face Uraraka when he was this goddamn frustrated?

* * *

Bakugou sighed out loud, exasperated before he had even stepped boot clad foot into his home. Uraraka would be on the other side, looking at him nervously when she didn't think he noticed, just like she had the past few days.

It was really fucking frustrating.

How could he say anything to her? How was he supposed to face these feelings he had bumbling around in his head like a ping pong ball? He couldn't make sense of them, and didn't know how she'd react.

Would she be pissed or endeared to his angst? Or would she push him away further than she had already attempted?

He took the handle and pushed open the wooden frame, bucking up. The gush of warm air hit his skin as he trudged inside and shut the door to effectively block the cold wind outside from sneaking in.

He shrugged off his coat, wincing slightly at the soreness of his muscles as he did so. The wound Uraraka had left on him burned like hell every time he started to sweat, but he didn't care. He had other scars on his body far worse than the one that would surely come out of her panic.

Maybe a vacation wouldn't be the worst thing in the world…he thought to himself as he padded towards the living room and kitchen area, utterly exhausted.

He saw her sitting where she always seemed to sit, on the windowsill, gazing out like she was searching for something far off in the distance.

He thought about making some kind of window bench for her since she seemed so hooked on the thin ledge the window already offered. How could she be comfortable in that position?

Ochako turned her head towards him slightly, noticing his stare, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He quickly averted his vision elsewhere.

"Welcome home…" she said lowly, almost to where he couldn't hear her.

He clenched his jaw, feeling the muscle ripple as he looked over his body. He was in desperate need of a shower, the soot covering his flesh making his skin crawl in disgust.

He fucking despised germs. That was why he went through toothbrushes so often.

Seeing Ochako was a constant reminder to him of what he felt was his own failures. It sparked the anger inside his chest that was similar to the inferior feeling he experienced whenever that shitty nerd came close.

He wordlessly trudged back towards the bathroom, intent on taking a long contemplative shower before seeing Uraraka again, by the time he was behind the curve of the hallway he had already shrugged off his sweat-dampened shirt and had nearly gotten the bathroom door closed fully when a small thud of resistance stopped him on the opposite side.

He pulled the door back to reveal his petite roommate, the girl he'd been avoiding to keep her from being hurt in the wake of his own rash personality. He really didn't want her to get caught into his tantrums, yet, once again here she was to make things more difficult, to challenge his thin line of resolve.

"What is it?" Katsuki offered roughly, unable to see the expression on Uraraka's face, as her hair shrouded it in a shadow. He instead focused on the details he could see.

Uraraka remained silent but he could see that her form was shaking somewhat, her teeth biting into the plump skin of her lips as tiny tremors ran throughout her thin frame. Her small fists hung down, clenched tightly at her sides like small clubs.

"Hit me." She spat at him viciously, in a tone no louder than a whisper, but holding so much spite.

Katsuki's crimson orbs widened considerably at her request, and he cocked his head to the side in utter surprise mingled with sincere confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about-?" he was cut off by a forceful shove backwards until he was parked flat against the bathroom wall, half-naked in front of a very temperamental Uraraka.

He saw her circular face tilt upwards and felt his chest tighten as her expression came into full focus under the fluorescence of the bathroom lights.

Her small brows were set harshly into her forehead, framed by the few out of place strands of her chocolate hair. She looked like she was trying to seem stern except her eyes betrayed the display as he peered down at her, still too shocked to respond to the sudden confrontational nature of their position.

The brown irises in her head were filled with flickers of hurt and guilt like sparks of gold, her rims were lined by an all too familiar wetness. Her mouth was contorted into a jagged pressed line, as if she was holding in all of the things she wanted to spew out at him.

He felt an involuntary shiver run through him as she raised a pale slender hand to fan out five digits over the spot on his chest where she had gouged him. Her fingers glided lightly over the sensitive reddened marks, and her expression turned more and more irritated as she withdrew her gentle touch from him.

"This is why you've been avoiding me right? Because I hurt you like this…" her gaze was focused on his midsection, and her tone cracking.

"It's because I'm pitiful and weak and cried to you like a damn baby about my Daddy issues isn't it…" Her voice was swimming in fury, laced with sadness and hurt between breaths. He couldn't tear himself away from the flashes of emotion racing across her face. They changed so fast he could hardly keep up.

"I can't take it Bakugou…damn it just hit me already! Just make us even so this silent treatment can stop. I hate it. I hate it more than anything; why are you acting like I don't even exist after you've done all these things…after you've seen some of the worst of me…" Her voice faltered and her fist landed on his torso, with little power behind it as his heart raced underneath the harsh palm.

God why was she making him face these things right now? He felt like he couldn't even breath, he hadn't sorted out what he was feeling yet.

"Just do it okay? I'm…I'm sorry I actually hurt you when…when I…" the slight tremble of her bottom lip was the last thing he could take before he was able to react properly.

He raised his own arm slowly, and saw the recoil in her posture before taking her fist into his grasp and lifting it to rest over the beginning-to-heal scratches on his right side, letting her feel the roughened edges of fresh scabs.

"Katsuki…is this your fucking dumbass way of showing me that you're done with me? Do you want me to leave? I didn't intend to let you see any of that in the first place, and now you're disgusted by me and you want an out? Well fine! I'll leave I'll-" Katsuki slid his free hand to gently cover her frantic mouth.

 _Is that what you think?_

"Uraraka…firstly let's get one fucking thing straight, I'm not going to hit you…not now and not ever…" His voice was firm and even, it impressed even him that he sounded so controlled even though his ribs were aching from the pound of his erratic heartbeat. He ran his thumb gingerly along the side of her palm, pleased when her grip began to simmer and ease under his touch.

He studied her features intently, feeling a pang of disappointment in himself that he had caused her to feel so unsure and sad. Why on Earth would this damn woman believe he would lay a hand on her over a dumb flesh wound? It wasn't like she had done it one purpose.

And…when she'd declared she would leave…he didn't know why he felt the need to lock her inside…to cling to her presence…

Why the hell did he want to be so… _possessive_ over her?

"You're upset with me aren't you?...So just do whatever you have to do to get over it so we can go back to normal…it doesn't matter if you hit me okay? I've h-had things so much worse than that you idiot." a hiccup punctuated the end of her plea, and Bakugou shut his eyes for few seconds before breathing out slowly and releasing her hand to run his own through his dirty hair before they fell to dangle at his sides limply.

He prayed he would handle this right.

"You're the idiot round face…haven't you suffered enough already?" he words came off in a tired manner as he began to lean forward until his forehead rested against Uraraka's smaller shoulder ridge. He didn't know if she was okay with the contact…but she make any move to stop him.

He could sense the silent tears falling off of her cheeks even though he couldn't get a visual at his angle, and he placed his hands to softly grip the sides of her hips and tug her towards him.

 _Fuck_ _it_ , he just wanted her as close as she would let him get.

"C'mon dammit don't cry…" he murmured into her skin, the sweet scent of her hair filling his head and tempering his frantic state of mind.

Her scent was soothing, and reminded him of fresh laundry and flowers. He liked it…he wanted more of it.

"Hey Bakugou…w-what're you-" she began objecting until he tightened his grip on her to stop her from pushing him away. He wanted to stay like this…just until he could find a good way to tell her all of the thoughts in his brain.

"Uraraka…I'm really angry…no…I'm fucking _livid_ …" he said softly into the crook of her neck as his hands traveled to circle around her waist loosely, he well aware of how unusual and bold his actions were. But he hoped she would make an exception just this once.

He felt her stiffen as his words traveled to her ears.

"A-At me?" she squeaked out. He found it cute, the way she panicked…but his amusement was quickly extinguished when he realized it was his own demeanor that had upset her in the first place.

"No." he stated matter-of-factly, and noticed as her hands traveled to land beside each other on him, effectively keeping him from pulling her any closer than he had. So this was the boundary huh?

"Then why?" she questioned insistently. He screwed his eyes shut tightly as he racked his brain. He didn't like talking so openly about these things…it was difficult.

"Because I'm useless Uraraka, I can't change anything…I can't take back what those bastards did to you…and I can't make you feel safe…" he was embarrassed to be this honest with someone. And nerves began to creep into his throat as he nudged into her nape further. He fought back the urge to inhale the pleasing aroma she emitted.

He then twitched as he felt her delicate fingers slip into the tresses of his ragged hair, and her other arm rest on his back as she reciprocated his desperate touches. Completing the awkwardly intimate embrace he had initiated.

"Bakugou…you really are stupid sometimes you know?" she laughed against him, and he gladly welcomed the alluring trill to lighten the heavy atmosphere. She stroked her hand through his blonde hair once again.

"You can't change what happened you know? Anymore then I can…if it was possible it would've already been done you moron." She whispered against him, her biting insults were not stinging however. He knew that what she was saying was right, even though it didn't keep him from wanting to erase the bad memories she had stored inside.

He wasn't sure why he felt the need to go out of his way, and put himself inside this fucking complicated situation.

He just did before he could really understand why.

"Those assholes are in jail and they aren't getting out anytime soon and…I'm only going to tell you this once…but…" He felt his ears perk up, and pulled away from her neck so that he could see her face. Their hands both simultaneously dropping back to their respective places as they faced one another in the close quarters.

He swallowed hard when he noticed the faint flush of pink on her cheeks and the stubborn way her lip poked out as she refused to look at him with those doe eyes she possessed. Fuck he needed to control himself, this was _**not**_ the time or place.

He did wish though, that she wouldn't hide her eyes from him.

"…as for feeling safe…" he waited expectantly, his lips twitching in anticipation as he listened.

"You do…you know…make me feel safe…so don't worry about that so much okay? You should worry about yourself more." She finally looked him in the eye and he couldn't help the tug of his mouth that formed into a dimpled smirk. Her eyes narrowed into devious slits and he felt her warmth recede as she stalked towards the exit, signaling this was the end of their conversation.

"Don't look so cocky you damn hotheaded bastard, and take a shower already you smell like burnt ass." She mumbled angrily, her arms crossing underneath her chest while the smirk remained on Katsuki's face.

"I would if a certain pink-cheeked woman would let me strip in peace." He retorted amused. She rolled her eyes playfully and then slammed the door shut and he slumped his posture slightly.

He chuckled to himself.

 _I'm going to go fucking insane._

* * *

Once Uraraka heard the water of the shower turn on she shoved her face into the nearest pillow or cushion she could find and let out a strangled scream of tension.

Her face was glaring red and her heart racing. It was hot and uncomfortable…but not completely bad altogether.

"What the heck was that?" she moaned into the feathery decoration as she turned to stare up at the ceiling, before harshly slapping her hands against her cheeks.

She let her mind fish through the events that had just transpired moments ago, and felt conflicted.

She was relieved that Bakugou's odd colder-than-normal shoulder act hadn't been because of her per say, but she didn't love that he thought it was his mission to rewrite history.

The past was already deeply ingrained into her, she had the scars to prove so. She would never be the girl he'd known from the past.

So she felt doubts that he wouldn't abandon her once he realized that fact.

She found even more alarming that she had taken such a security in Bakugou's home. It felt like a haven almost…and she didn't know if she should allow herself to become accustomed to this way of mundane life.

 _He will leave you…just like Deku._ She thought to herself solemnly.

Before going down that rabbit-hole too fast her brain procured the memory of Bakugou's brief and gentle touches.

She frowned. That had been the first time she had allowed anyone to touch her in a long time.

She was equally as unsure about how okay her body seemed to be with close proximity to a certain blonde.

But the way he brushed against her…was so powerful. His claims to never harm her were only reinforced by the way he treated her body.

Even though…it didn't mean he looked at her _in that way_ it was still…taking her off-guard how carefully he handled her.

She groaned, outwardly irritated when she thought of how she didn't seem to mind his head on her shoulder and his lips near her neck too much.

But as soon as the realization came to mind, another memory snuck in…

' _You're mine angel-face. No matter where you go you'll always be mine.' The man chuckled into her ear sinisterly as she hung limply from her chains. She felt his tongue flick across her neck, and she cringed at the sensation._

' _Fuck…that's it…" he cooed._

 _The shackles on her wrists cut into her skin, constantly stinging the tender area as she was plowed into sporadically by several different unseen assailants. The sound of clacking metal mingling with sighs of pleasure._

 _Her body was numb…aching…in pain…she wanted to die._

 _She wished they would kill her instead of force her into the humiliating submission they attempted to fuck her into._

 _She felt full and empty at the same time._

 _Full of foreign invasion and seeping substances that made her inner flesh warm in the most disgusting of ways…but empty from the constant unwanted advances._

 _There was no end to the torture._

 _No relief when one man finished because another would soon replace him._

 _She had lost the will to fight back anymore, even after the drugs they'd sedated her with had worn off._

 _The police hadn't come…she wondered if they would ever come…and she was left to dangle from a cold wall and be raped over and over by men she'd never met._

 _She lost count of the hours after some time._

 _Some liked to make her cry out in pain, striking her body with fists and objects…some preferred to say nothing at all as they did their business and then left without a word._

 _She wasn't the only girl in the mysterious room either, but that fact gave her no comfort as various pitches of exasperated grunts and chaste swears filled the dark room._

 _She wasn't the only victim swaying aimlessly as grubby fingers trailed over her skin, but she still felt isolated._

 _She was alone…_

 _The police force had abandoned her…she would never escape this treatment._

 _She regretted ever joining the special victims' unit…and ever being born in the first place._

 _She would have gladly preferred nonexistence to this gaping nothingness she had felt as her freedom was torn away._

 _The men took piece by piece of her sanity, and beat her bloody until she gave them what they wanted from her._

 _Every time she gave in, she felt more hollow than the last._

 _She swore that she'd never allow anyone that close again, if she ever got out she wouldn't let anyone touch her again._

Ochako breathed out as the memory came and went. Her past haunted her like a ghost that shut out the brief moments of happiness she procured.

She shuddered as a chill ran through her, and she wondered if Bakugou would ever understand that she was uncomfortable with being touched.

She never wanted to relive those feelings, and so she wasn't sure she could ever allow anyone the chance.

She wasn't sure she'd ever trust anyone enough to let them that close, and her heart burned from the ache she felt. The hollow feeling raising it's head inside her chest.

Was there anyone…who could love someone like her despite that?

* * *

A/N: New year, new update! Happy 2019! I couldn't let these two have too much happiness ya know because that would be too easy 😊. I hope this was a good chapter, let me know your thoughts below!


	7. The Things Kept Hidden Part 1

**Disclaimer** **: I do not own My Hero Academia or any other copy-righted material.**

* * *

 **She's No Angel**

* * *

Chapter 7: The Things Kept Hidden Part 1

Orange…yellow…red…black…

The flames danced freely along the walls and floor, moving at their leisure as they destroyed all the things they touched.

The smell of burnt wood and smoke filled Katsuki's nose as his crimson eyes darted around for the remaining civilian. The haughty scent of the discolored air surrounding him invaded his eyes, his nose, his mouth, and it gagged him from the inside out. He couldn't catch a fucking breath even underneath his gear.

This time, the fire was not a joke. He needed to hurry before the building took on too much damage.

"Young Bakugou get out of this place at once!" Katsuki heard a familiar deep voice ringing out amongst the chaos, but he couldn't find the source anywhere.

"I can handle myself!" He yelled out, covering his mouth as he coughed. He couldn't see a damn thing in this smoke!

He refused to believe he was incapable of getting the last civilian out before the whole thing fell to shit, even though he had been ordered not to enter.

He could feel involuntary tears stinging at the corners of his lids, and blinked furiously to remain focused in the tense situation.

A loud splintering crack made his head snap upwards.

The building was going to collapse _soon_ if he didn't move his ass.

"H-Help…me…" Bakugou could barely make out the faint image of a hand outstretched for someone to grab onto. He took in a deep breath to hold, and plunged forward into the darkened thicket of ash, praying his gear protected him from the raging inferno surrounding him as he braved the heat.

He had enough scars from rookie mistakes in his training days.

"Oi you, I've got you, so just shut your mouth and try to breath into this, got it?" He commanded sternly, picking up the limp body of the soot-stained teenager from the floor and shoving his own mask to cover the kid's face. He shrugged off his jacket to keep the boy safe from harm.

Thank fuck he'd found the last one alive.

"Y-Young Bakugou…" Bakugou whipped around to see the distorted image of his chief's broad frame through the dancing flames. His blonde hair and deep set eyes were shadowed in the bright glow of the fire and embers floating between them.

Another loud crash descended from above and Bakugou crouched to cover the victim with his own body.

After a moment of realization and panic he looked frantically to see the barrier of disheveled wood and concrete caging All Might into a corner.

The former was bleeding scarlet, his golden hair dirty and ruffled from the debris, as well as his typically undaunted expression faltering.

"So this is how it ends…" Bakugou felt a twinge of fear shoot through him at the comment that escaped from his mentor's lips.

He couldn't keep his emotions contained.

"All Might I'll get you out! Hold on dammit!" Katsuki kneeled to lay the kid on the floor and began frantically pulling away what pieces of charred fodder he could with his gloved hands.

"Shit…" he hissed as a sear of hot pain brushed his forearm.

"There's no time for that Young Bakugou, you must go and take that child with you." All Might called out in a soft yet commanding voice, and Katsuki stilled in shock as he looked up across the blinding waves of orange and yellow flames engulfing the very ground All Might was standing on.

He couldn't stop the guilt from settling into his rational thinking. The impending danger approaching the three of them laying forgotten in Bakugou's surge of feelings.

"This is…this is _my_ fault! I'll get you out!" he pleaded desperately, his tough façade crumbling much like the bricks and mortar around him as the reality of the present situation sunk in. A cold chill began spreading through Katsuki's bones, chilling him to the core as his mentor stretched out his hand, fingers clenched in a fist. The malicious sear of the fire on his bare skin not seeming to bother the man.

The stinging tears continued to surge down Bakugou's soot-covered cheeks as he looked on helplessly.

A smile spread across All Might's features as his chief postured bravely, the attitude of which Katsuki admired so deeply showing clearly through the fire.

"Young Bakugou…do not let this be a hindrance to you…" All Might said firmly, yet Katsuki remained unable to move. He couldn't possibly tear his eyes away.

"I'M NOT READY!" he screamed, voice cracking like the splintering wood beneath him, he clutched the unconscious teen close to him as he stood up trembling, his blonde brows knitting in fueled anger.

"Young Bakugou…you still have so much room to grow!" All Might called out proudly, smile still set in stone on the man's cheeks. As another crash of descending debris shook the very foundation Katsuki stood upon, the moment between All Might's previous statement and his last words seemed to stretch out in slow motion. Every detail of the image being burned into his memory. Branded on the back of his lids like a mark.

"It is time, go now, save that boy." Katsuki shuddered, lips quivering as the image of the man he held in the highest regard stood defeated…all because of him. Because of his pride and weakness.

" **GO**!" Katsuki ground his teeth together, and bolted from the scene in a flurry of tears and grit.

When he finally made it out of the building, he heard the deafening sound of the bricks and beams splitting the cool air as the complex leveled to the ground.

Katsuki turned to witness the calamity of the disaster.

"No…" he sank down once again, jaw slack, and eyes wide with fear.

This was all his fault…if he hadn't rushed in despite All Might's orders…this wouldn't have happened…

All might would still be alive…

Darkness swept over the scene, and suddenly Katsuki was floating in the middle of blackness, a deep seeded emptiness overcoming the sensations of fear and anger in his veins.

He was nothing.

Much like that building and All Might…nothing now…

The void of blackness continued to cloud his eyes as he sank down further and further in the hole, his lids felt heavy and tired.

He didn't have the strength to fight back now…

" _Kat…su…ki_ …"

Who was calling his name?

Was there someone else in this place too, who could possibly understand this all-consuming grief he was surrounded by?

" _Katsuki_!"

* * *

"Ack!" Bakugou shot upright, chest heaving up and down rapidly as he looked around the room in a frenzied state. He felt the sticky feeling of cold sweat across his forehead, and leaned over in shock his nerves calming slowly.

 _It was just a dream_...he thought drearily.

He closed his eyes again, moving towards the edge of his bed until his bare feet hit the cool hardwood of the floor. He held out his left arm and traced the groove of a shallow scar where he remembered the burn of the fire from when he had torn away at the shrapnel blocking him from All Might.

Opening them once again he sighed, the empty feeling from his dream still ebbing away at him.

He begrudgingly stood up, and groaned throatily as he heard his bones clicking into place as his muscles stretched after lying still for so long. He nudged the door to his bedroom open with his shoulder and headed for the kitchen to begin the coffee grinder and breakfast.

This kind of occurrence, where he couldn't sleep until a reasonable hour happened often. More often than he preferred, or cared to admit.

When Kirishima had lived in his home, the red-head was always been so worried about the bad habit he had developed, and insisted Bakugou go to a doctor, among other kinds of health practices.

Shitty Hair never pushed it though, past a certain point, his friend knew there was no chance Bakugou would ever allow himself such a coddling luxury.

He deserved the numbness that dulled his sharp and fiery personality.

Kirishima's distress had done little to convince him otherwise. Losing sleep was the least of his worries nowadays anyway.

"Bakugou? The hell is wrong with your face?" Bakugou glared in the direction of a shrill pinging voice, and rubbed his eyes harshly to clear his fogged vision.

He made out the curvaceous form of Ochako curled on the edge of the couch, her hair tied up in a messy array of brown strands.

He felt his chest start to stutter at the sight, a pang of curiosity shot through his apathetic being.

"Why the hell are you awake Uraraka?" he demanded raggedly, focusing solely on his goal of caffeine, and forcing himself to turn away from the woman.

He didn't receive a reply, but he could feel the intensity of her stare from across the room. Her silence was a typical reaction, and irritating as usual.

He had come to realize in their recent interactions with each other, that they knew very little about one another.

Aside from a few random drabbles of her trauma being uncovered, Uraraka was a mystery.

Her relationship with Deku…the incident that had led to her ending her short career…even her simple likes and dislikes; he knew none of it.

It was odd though…that that fact bothered him.

The familiar whirring sound of the grinder tearing through beans filled the quiet atmosphere, followed soon by the aromatic bitter-sweet scent of the beverage brewing.

Once he'd poured his mug to his liking, and his mood simmered considerably with the ease of the hot drink slipping down his cracked throat, he attempted to engage the brunette again.

"Uraraka." He called out, his voice still rugged.

The brunette tilted her head back slightly, several untucked strands cascading over her brow as she eyed him from her perched position on the couch. Her hazel eyes looked alarmingly sharp, as if she'd been on high alert for hours. But her expression remained neutral…unmoved…like a statue.

"Seriously cheeks, wanna tell me why you're up at this hour? You should go back to sleep, you're already cranky enough as it is on your good days." Bakugou teased light-heartedly, and Uraraka only glared at him in response, her silent treatment continuing.

He rolled his eyes and massaged the stiff muscles of his neck, padding towards her position.

He realized she wasn't fully clothed and was confused by his apparent…excitement.

He felt disgusting as his eyes unwilfully ran over the glowing porcelain of her thighs, and trailed up the loose button down on her top.

She hadn't been expecting his presence…usually she was completely covered up, neck to toe.

He shook his head, reminding himself of their status and her questionable history with advancing men.

He couldn't completely kill his attraction to her, however, he would shove it aside for the sake of his random intrigue by her past.

She'd never let him anywhere near her if she thought for a second he was going to try something.

After a few peaceful beats, a small almost indistinguishable question surfaced, pulling Katsuki out of his own contemplation.

"…why are you awake?..." Katsuki raised his brow, it wasn't often Uraraka really asked him much. He chalked it up to her iron clad self-defense, but she never seemed to care much about anything except what other peoples' hidden intentions were.

Bakugou cleared his throat, taking another sip from his mug.

"Bad dreams." He offered cautiously, and watched observantly as her hazel eyes widened a sliver, but then as soon as the reaction had come it disappeared.

After another few moments of awkward silence, Bakugou turned to walk back towards his fridge, set on looking at the calendar he kept magnetized on it.

He clenched his jaw in irritation, remembering the bastard Aizawa's order for him to take some fucking time off to 'clear his head'…fucking bastard.

He saw a roughly scribbled event for the day and groaned audibly once again, looking back towards Ochako, who was oddly interested in his actions; seeing as she was peering over the dge of the couch, eyes zeroed in on his face.

"Shit Uraraka…you don't have to ogle me so damn early in the morning. If you want something say so." He huffed, but she only narrowed her eyes, not breaking her nonchalance at his taunting words.

He looked back to the calendar, frowning.

Tonight he had promised Kirishima and Pikachu…among others that he would go out with them drinking…or whatever else the idiot had planned.

But…

He glanced at the girl lazing over his furniture with apprehension, what would she do?

He sighed once again and retreated to take a shower…wanting to contemplate the matter in the sanctity of his bathroom where her piercing eyes couldn't see.

* * *

Once Uraraka heard the swish of the shower head coming on, she hopped up off the couch, pulling the flimsy button-down around her figure tightly.

 _How embarrassing!_ She thought to herself, lips pursed as she scampered towards the refrigerator. She hadn't thought she would see the damn bonehead so early in the morning, other wise she wouldn't have paraded around in _HIS_ shirt of all things.

She eyed the scribbled note for the present date, analyzing the letters carefully.

It read: _Drinks and shit with Kirishima._

Uraraka smirked at the amusing wording Bakugou had used in his planner.

She heard the familiar sound of dripping water cease and shot towards her bedroom before the bathroom door opened, shutting her own fervently.

She let out a breath of relief that he hadn't caught her, and went to put on normal clothing so she wouldn't feel so exposed.

She frowned, sliding a pair of jeans over her legs.

If Bakugou was gone again…would she be left alone?

Not that she wasn't used to being on her own after all…but recently she had, regrettably, felt a degree of ease knowing that someone else was around her.

His commanding attitude certainly kept her mind busy and distracted from unpleasant thoughts.

It was a strange relief.

But she knew she was still just an ill-formed acquaintance to Bakugou now, even though they'd gone to high school together.

You couldn't just walk back into someone's life after half a decade and expect to be buddy buddy. She hadn't asked…but she didn't know the first thing about his life outside of what he did for a living.

Why did he let her live here again?

Was that what she wanted with him? Friendship?

Did she really believe he wouldn't hurt her? Was that why his specific as hell scent made it easier to sleep without nightmares…and why she kept hoarding his clothes when she went to bed?

She slapped her cheeks hard, redness imprinting on her pale skin in the mirror.

It was dumb to believe he wouldn't eventually betray her, all men wanted one thing.

She knew that better than anyone.

She shouldn't care if Bakugou wasn't home, she DIDN'T care, he had never been the type to invite people to tag along after him anyway.

And she honestly, should probably have been grateful he was going to leave her behind anyway.

She would absolutely be safe that way, no threat of sneak attacks or anymore…of Bakugou's strange touches that were alarmingly…NOT alarming.

'… _haven't you suffered enough already?...'_

Her eyes lowered as she looked over herself in the mirror, she traced the scars on her wrists, had she been through enough?

Was it okay to allow herself to admit that she felt safe around someone?

If Bakugou was near her…she felt okay with going out sober in public.

Even if it never went beyond being friendly…or even just easy-to-talk-to roomates…that was enough right?

It was enough to think she had some connection to another soul…but she didn't really understand what Bakugou…IF Bakugou wanted anything like that with her.

Did he even consider her a friend?

Would he be okay if he could never get beyond friendship with her?

 _Don't fool yourself Ochako…as if he would ever see you as more than used goods and sloppy seconds anyway…would do you think you are? Some goddess?_

She thought bitterly, reminding herself of her place in the pecking order. Other men had made sure she knew that she was no good for anyone anymore.

Heck…Deku had all but convinced her their whispered threats were a reality.

Deku couldn't stick through her stormy change in temperament and her physical condition…and there had been a time when Ochako had believed that Deku could do anything.

Deku was almost like…like a hero to her once.

But now, he'd almost played like a villain in her story.

Heroes and villains be damned…no one was coming to her rescue in this world.

There was a reason those stories remained in comic books and anime…because they were fictional.

People who swore to love and protect you…in reality leave when real shit hit the fan. Villain's aren't always stopped in the brink of time.

And the damsel in distress isn't always saved by the love of her life.

No Ochako's 'lover' had left her crying and alone all those years ago…since then she knew now that she never let her heart get so broken down again.

That's why she built a barrier, that's why most people without the balls to try were warded off by her defenses.

Katsuki had always been a brute, a force of nature, with explosive tendencies. She wasn't necessarily surprised that he had decided he wasn't afraid of her scare tactics.

What kept her reeling in confusion was the almost paradoxical gentleness he handled her with in emotional crisis.

Bakugou was _not_ gentle…that just…that wasn't his M.O.

An image of his concerned expression flashed across her orbs, she recalled the warmth of his soft touch on her neck and his deep voice in her ear.

' _Uraraka, I can't change anything…I can't take back what those bastards did to you…'_

 _Idiot_ …She thought. Why did he even say that?

He said it like he meant it, like he really was mad that someone had touched her like that…hurt her like that…even though he didn't hardly know a thing about her now…

Why did that simple gesture and statement make her heart feel like it was going to swell?

"Ugh." She ran her hands through her tangled hair and trudged out of her bedroom, needing some air.

This kind of thinking was exactly why she used to drink.

* * *

" _Seriously Bakugou? Wait dude…you're asking?"_ Kirishima's excited tone grated on Bakugou's ears as he listened to the red-head gasp incredulously at his request.

"Tch." Bakugou grimaced and leaned back against the wall beside the front door.

"Yes you fucking moron. Look, I don't want to leave Uraraka alone, but if I invite her she'll…I don't know she'll think it's fucking weird or something. She'll say no, and I can't have that okay?" He roused hastily, running his free hand through his hair roughly, tugging the spikes in a nervous tick.

" _No, I got that part…it's just…"_

"It's just what?" he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.

" _It's just you don't normally do this kind of thing for someone. It's nice is all…real considerate of you bro."_

"WHO SAID I CAN'T BE NICE AND CONSIDERATE HAH, YOU WANNA DIE SHITTY HAIR!?" Bakugou bellowed into the phone.

" _Calm down, man! I didn't say that, besides it's not like the girls will be angry, they still love her just as much as they did a few years ago. Mina is going to be so happy, I'll make it happen!"_ The blonde's angry expression softened slightly at his friend's promise.

"…thanks…" He mumbled quietly.

" _What was that?!"_

 _Click._

Bakugou ended the call before Kirishima got all sappy, and re-entered his home to find Uraraka.

He couldn't convince Kirishima that he didn't have time to go out now that fucking Aizawa had basically ordered him under house arrest, and that damn Icy-Hot knew about the leave he was taking as well.

So, in an effort to appease his fucking spinning out of control mind, thanks to a certain enraging brown-eyed woman, he had asked Kirishima if it would be possible for ONLY Mina to come to his house, instead of the entire gang of females his friends called lovers.

He didn't like the thought of Uraraka being by herself when there was a potential chance, he wouldn't be home sober that night.

He didn't really trust her judgement, or mental stability either.

Afterall she had basically slow-cooked herself in a shower the last time he'd left for an extended period of time.

The memory of her aggravated skin in his hands flashed across his mind.

He scanned the living room warily, but caught sight of the woman standing outside on the porch, sunbathing like a cat in the light.

He knocked briefly on the glass door, to avoid surprising her, and when she turned to acknowledge his presence, he slid the door behind him, back against the clear glass, keeping a safe distance between them so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed.

He wondered briefly, recalling some of their previous 'deep' moments if Ochako minded if he came near to her.

He definitely wanted to be closer to her…he liked the way it felt to hold her in his arms.

He'd never really felt that weird…tingly feeling with another girl.

Pulling away from the dangerous territory his mind was headed toward, Bakugou instead focused on Uraraka's visible side profile.

Something was troubling her…it was written clearly all over her face. She never had been great at lying anyway.

"What?" she whispered, absentmindedly chewing her bottom lip. He watched, mesmerized as she leaned down to rest on her elbows on the ledge of the balcony.

He took in the sight of the wind streaking through her long hair, caught by the urge to pull her away from that ledge. He didn't want to picture her ever on that precipice.

"Tonight, I'm going out with Kirishima and the other dorks." He stated matter-of-factly, his voice void of its normal menace, and nearly robotic.

"That so? By dorks I assume you mean Kaminari, Sero, and maybe Todoroki, right?" she responded half-heartedly, looking far off in the distance.

 _Fuck_ she was goddamn gorgeous.

"Yeah…and Deku." He saw her tense at the mention of the nerd's name, her shoulders rising slightly, but he didn't want to tempt fate further by pressing the issue before he told her about the other minute detail he'd set in place.

"Why're you telling me this?" she asked, there was an odd way her words were tinged. As if there was some unspoken double-meaning behind her question.

"Since those fools all went and got married…or engaged or some shit, their women usually hang out at someone's house when we all go out together…" Uraraka pulled away from the railing much to Katsuki's relief, but it was soon replaced by regret when he took in her angry expression.

Her brows were dipped low and her brown orbs swimming in something like a tornado of hatred. He'd never seen her look so…ferocious.

"Asui is coming here?" she hissed, venom lacing into each syllable of the frog's name. That was Deku's woman.

"No... not this time." He admitted reluctantly, itching to ask why that bothered her so damn much. She was fucking furious at him, and for inexplicable reasons.

"Tonight, it's just going to be Mina, that a problem?" he asked, his stance rigid.

" _That a problem_? You're asking me that now as if you give a care whether or not I'm okay with it." She spat mockingly, Katsuki felt the sudden urge to hit something.

"If you're going to act so high and mighty cheeks, why don't you give me one damn reason why I shouldn't let them all come here, including Deku's woman." He barked back, his temper flaring.

She spun around to face him head on, the hurt look in her eyes piercing him.

"Why should I Bakugou? Why should I tell you a damn thing about my life? You think you deserve it just because you said a few nice things to me? You think I should tell you about me and Deku just because you fucking asked? Well guess what buddy, I don't owe you **anything**." her bitter words enticed him to scream, to lash out, to attack. But he bit back his tongue in spite of his feelings, breathing heavily instead to calm himself. He was so frustrated at her stubborn mannerisms that he wanted to pull his hair out strand by strand.

What had happened to the vulnerable and open Ochako from a few days prior? The one who couldn't stand it when he didn't pester her for more information?

Who the hell was giving him the silent treatment now? All over shitty Deku?

After a few tense beats of deadlock staring contest, Uraraka looked away from him clicking her tongue sharply.

"Get out of my way." She growled as she shoved past him into the house's living room.

He grit his teeth together painfully hard when he heard a loud bang from inside.

"Fucking hell!" he shouted angrily, resisting the impulse to sink his fist into the wall.

Looks like whatever progress he'd thought he'd made with Uraraka had just crumbled right in front of his face.

Maybe giving her some space without him in it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

"Bakugou! Open up! Me and Kiri have arrived to steal you away!" Bakugou groaned at the overly cheerful voice ringing on the other side of his door. He made a move to go to it when he paused, looking down the hallway corridor.

Things had been…complicated.

Ochako hadn't come out of her room since they'd spoken earlier that day. It had been hours since he'd last laid eyes on her, but he didn't go into her room for fear of only making her more upset than she already was.

"Tsk." He swung open the door handle and was instantly bombarded with a flurry of hugs and compliments from Mina and Kirishima.

His temper bubbled as he wordlessly shoved them off his body.

"Fucktards, since when did I say you two could touch me as you please…ha?" he stared down at the pinkette, using all of his willpower to burn his rage into her through his glare, but she bounced it off and flicked him in the forehead instead, skipping away just in time as Kirishima secured the blonde from full-blown rampaging on his fiancée.

"Calm down Bakugou! Besides tonight is just for us guys anyway, Mina has been dying to see you for awhile since you've been cooped up in here. Humor her for once will you?" Katsuki twisted out of his friend's arms and straightened his shirt.

"Don't tell me what to do Shitty Hair." He mumbled, stalking after Mina, a headache beginning to form in his temple.

"Hm I guess we're the first one's here. Oh!" Mina started noting, turning back to face the two men looking after her.

"Where's Ochako? Isn't she living here with you now? I have _so_ many questions to ask her…tehehe…" Katsuki felt a vein bulge in his neck from the sinister demon-esque glint in Ashido's blackened orbs.

He took a step forward, until he loomed over the spry female.

"It ain't like that Alien, so don't go and make her feel like I'm trying to start something I'm not." He ended the sentence deeply, almost like a growl from the back of his throat. His posture was rigid and his attitude unnervingly calm.

Mina knew too well from Kirishima, that type of reaction meant Katsuki was dead serious about what he had said. She'd been warned never to cross him when he talked like this...ever. Even so, she couldn't help but mess with the little explosion-prone prince just a little bit.

"What? What were _you_ thinking I was going to ask her you perv?" she snickered deviously at the flush that crossed Bakugou's features, and then continued her search for the missing girl she'd been hell-bent on reconnecting with since the day Kiri had told her Ochako had moved into Bakugou's in his stead.

"Hey Mina." Ashido froze at the sudden sound from her lover. She turned to look back innocently towards him and took into account the cross of his arms over his chest, and the nervous look on his typically carefree face.

"Hmm?" she responded, padding over to the red-head in confusion.

She stiffened in surprise when she felt Kirishima's lips brush against the shell of her outer ear, ruffling her pink curls softly with his nose.

"Mina, take it easy with Uraraka. I told you she has some pretty serious trust issues, this'll probably be a lot for her tonight. I just don't want you to be disappointed love." He cooed sweetly, his hands just barely laced around her waist.

She shifted to plant a chaste kiss on his unsuspecting lips and then leaned back, her arms snuggly hung around his neck.

"Ei, don't you know me at all?" she murmured teasingly, her tone dripping with sincerity as Kirishima's cheeks turned the color of his hair.

"Hey, love-birds knock it off. I'm going to get Uraraka… _behave_." Mina and Kirishima both fell into a fit of giggles as the blonde stalked back towards the bedrooms with a foul air trailing behind him.

"Yes, dad!" they called mockingly before composing themselves and discussing what the night held in store for each of them.

Katsuki stood outside the door to what was now Ochako's bedroom hesitantly. He wasn't really sure what the inside of it looked like now, she'd been redecorating it to her liking, but she always kept the door closed, and he felt she'd see him waltzing in without warning as an affront to her privacy.

His brow furrowed and he rasped his knuckles on the door gently.

"Hey Uraraka…people are starting to show up…" he spoke just loud enough for her to hear through the door, certain the two bone-heads in the kitchen would be eavesdropping.

He got no response from her.

He knocked once again.

"Uraraka can I come inside?" he asked cautiously.

Katsuki sighed when once again there was no response and moved to turn the handle when he felt it jolt suddenly from the other side, blocking his entry.

"I heard you idiot! You can go now! I'm fine, just go…" her words were slightly muffled through the door, but Bakugou detected a hint of weepiness in her tone despite the barrier.

So, he'd managed to make her cry once again in a span of a week. He sighed, tugging at his blonde hair again.

"Are you still there moron? I said _go_!" she shouted at him, more persistently than before.

"I don't know if I'll come home tonight. Mina is probably going to stay over…" he continued, his tone softer in pitch than he used with anyone else.

He placed a large palm against the flat surface of the painted wood, and waited for a few more moments.

"Alright then." He whispered. Despising how disappointed he sounded, and he knew begrudgingly that the only one who seemed to put his own pride low on his list of priorities was the very woman hidden behind that damned bedroom door.

Making good on his word, Bakugou walked away and headed for the living area once more, he noticed the awe-stricken expressions on Ashido and Kirishima's faces instantly.

"The hell is wrong with you two?" he spat, and went to open the door once the doorbell sounded again, brushing past the couple with a melancholic look on his normally proud features.

"Ei…I've never heard Bakugou talk like that before…" Mina whispered to her fiancée as Bakugou offered his own peculiar form of a greeting to Kaminari.

Mina studied Kirishima's face, scanning for clues but could only make out the swirl of concern in his eyes.

"Yeah…I haven't seen… _this_ from him before…" Ashido's golden eyes widened at that, she was puzzled by just what kind of relationship Bakugou and Ochako had. If Bakugou was acting in ways that even Kirishima didn't understand…what could that mean?

What kind of person could make Bakugou so…docile?

"Ahhh Kiri!"

"Kami!"

Bakugou lurched in mock motions to vomit as the two men hugged each other passionately. They began launching into accounts of their lives like they were a couple as Bakugou laid to the wayside, back to the wall.

Mina kept a close watch on him, aware of the constant swivel of his head to look down the hallway where Ochako's bedroom lied.

He looked perturbed to say the least.

She would definitely do her best to find just what kinds of things took place in the home when no one else was around. She was more curious than ever to learn just what kind of changes had happened to her classmate in the last half decade.

Who was Uraraka now?

* * *

A/N: Hey hey! It's been awhile! I'm sorry if this update seemed a little lackluster. But this chapter is a buildup to the next (1 or 2) chapters depending on how much I end up writing for the next few scenes to this portion of the story. Please bear with me! Let me know your thoughts below!


End file.
